


The Lord Rejoices

by Madame_Tentacle



Series: Thy Ransom [2]
Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, I worked way longer and harder on it than I ever expected, Pre-Canon, Prequel, and excited to show the final product off, but that would require some major spoilers, nonetheless I hope you give this story a shot!, please proceed with caution and discretion, so I'm just gonna keep it at game-typical content but centering around young characters, tbh there's a lot more I can tag outside the archive warnings, with that said
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-07-27 15:12:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 23
Words: 35,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16221698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Tentacle/pseuds/Madame_Tentacle
Summary: During Temple Gate's founding years, Marta nears womanhood and wonders of God's plan for her.





	1. Chapter 1

“For whom was it by that the line of Adam corrupted beyond salvation?”

While other students flipped through their gospels and avoided Mrs. Carson’s eye, Marta’s hand shot up.

“Yes, Marta?”

With her worn and yellowed gospel in hand, Marta stood straight and tall. “It was through Cain’s sin that the line of Adam displeased the Lord. For as Chapter 2, Verse 3 says, he was uncircumcised of heart and stiff-necked,’ corrupting his line by the murder of his brother, Abel. Thus we are descended from such sin and must seek redemption in the Lord’s eyes, as Cain’s wickedness flows through our blood.”

“Very good, Marta. Nonetheless, man continues to believe himself made of an incorruptible gold.” Her gaze returned to the sea of students. “Can anyone tell me what drives man to believe in this lie?”

Marta’s hand rose again, but Mrs. Carson only sighed. “Can we hear from someone other than Marta?”

The students opted to stare at the clock on the wall or pretend to take notes rather than volunteer. She sought the roster for a victim. “Hm...who have we not heard from in a while—ah! Otis, why do you think man continues to believe himself incorruptible?”

Snickers erupted through the class and Mrs. Carson rubbed her temple at Otis, whose head rested on the desk, unresponsive. “Can someone wake Otis?”

As she sat at the desk beside him, Marta reached over to poke his shoulder.

It was enough to make him stir, but he still took his time sitting up. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, evoking laughter from the class.

“What did I miss this time?” he grumbled.

Mrs. Carson pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a deep breath. “What is it that makes man believe himself to be above corruption?” 

He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off.

“Stand, please. You know the rules.”

After stretching, Otis stood. “Uh…” While searching for an answer, he caught a glimpse of Marta’s gospel at the furthest corner of her desk. Once he brushed his overgrown hair out of his eyes, he was able to read it.

Marta pointed to the second verse in the second chapter.

“Because of the lies received from the traditions of our fathers?” Otis attempted after scanning the mercifully short verse.

“And why are those lies created?”

“Uh…” Otis looked again to Marta, but Mrs. Carson hadn’t the patience.

“Paige! Do you think you can help Otis?

In the front row, a rosy-cheeked girl stood. “It’s because it is easier to accept a lie than face a harsh truth.” 

“That’s correct, and do you know what it is that keeps man in his ignorance?”

“That would be fear.”

“Fear of what?”

Paige hesitated as she looked down at her hands. “The fear that they are not predestined as we are in Temple Gate to receive salvation and His everlasting mercy.”

“That’s right.” She motioned for Paige to sit and reclaimed her lesson. “Outside Temple Gate, man will tell you that God forgives all; that Heaven welcomes everyone, when in truth only the chosen few can be saved. Those few are the faithful ones who are willing to take up the Lord’s battle to earn His love and mercy, rather than lie in complacency and take His power for granted. For those who believe otherwise, there is only the pit.” Her eyes wandered to the ticking clock on the wall and she went to scrawl an objective onto the blackboard. “Now, there will be no regular homework for tonight because tomorrow is a test day. You are to use the time to study Chapter 2 of the prophet’s word. You will be graded on both a written portion and your dictation, so be diligent in your work.” 

After giving the students a moment to write their tasks, she bowed her head. “Now let us pray.”

When the class followed her lead, she began. “Our Father who art in Heaven, we thank Thee for the luxury to gather in Your name and learn Your word. Bless all those present among us. Be with them as they journey home, and bless them with Your all-knowing and loving nature. Praise be to the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Knoth, amen.”

“Amen,” the class echoed.

The chiming of the bells broke through the school walls. The pealing was heavy and low, the kind that rattled the bones of any too close. In the silence that followed, students gathered their things and gravitated into groups. Most departed quickly in a flurry of chatter but a few lingered, Otis being one of them, dragging.

“Are you alright?” Marta asked of his sluggishness.

“Hm?” Otis blinked a few times. “Yeah, just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Then you should consider retiring earlier. This is the third time this week you’ve slept through class.”

“Easier said than done. Seth has yet to understand the concept of bedtime.”

“Oh, I see.” Marta’s tone softened. “He really never gets tired?”

“Not that I’ve ever seen.”

“My sincerest apologies.”

“Thanks.” Otis slung his bag over his shoulder. “Hate to say hi and bye, but I got a lot of work waiting for me when I get home.”

“I understand. Good day and God bless.”

Never did Otis return her blessings, but he always offered a wave when they parted. “See ya tomorrow.”

When he left, Paige took his place. “Hi, Marta!” 

“Good afternoon. How are you doing today?” Marta attempted a smile, but they were never as warm as Paige’s. 

“Great! I was worried I would choke on the question like last week, but I did pretty good if I do say so myself!” Though she was one of the shortest girls in class, she puffed her chest out and stood as tall as she could.

Marta nodded. “Yes, you did very well. Especially with being called on so quickly like that.”

“I really should have seen it coming when she called on Otis.” Paige tsked.

“God help him.” Marta shook her head.

“Speaking of help, do you mind coming down to the farm? Dad is going to be home late, and I have to do a few extra chores when I get home. Would you care to lend me a hand? I could make us something to eat later.”

“I’d love to,” Marta replied.

“Great! Let’s go!” Paige took Marta’s wrist and led her out of the schoolhouse, a skip in her step. She chattered happily about this and that while Marta was content to listen. They went through the schoolyard, Paige meandering past bicycles and toys the younger children abandoned after recess. When they made it through, she let go to trot ahead. 

Dark ink smudged Marta’s skin. Some faintly resembled letters. She stopped in her tracks and held up her wrist. “Paige.”

“Hm, yes?” Paige turned around. Her smile vanished when she saw the marks. “Oh.”

“Were you cheating again?”

Paige shrugged and showed the palms of her hands littered with notes and verse numbers. “I think of it more like a study guide.”

“Paige!”

“What? It’s not that I don’t get it. I’m just not as good at memorizing verses and lessons as you.”

“That just means you should study more.”

“More? But I already hear it all the time between sermon, school, and you. I’m bound to memorize it eventually. What’s wrong with having a little guide until I do?”

“Nonetheless, a few recitations wouldn’t hurt, especially with tomorrow’s test. How about we do a few after your chores?”

Though Paige pouted, she conceded with a dragged out, “Fine.”

For the remainder of the walk, they faded into idle chatter. Their destination was one of the smallest homes in Temple Gate: The Larsen Farm, built with only enough room to house Paige and her father. However, their yard was one of the largest, allowing space for dozens of chickens to wander freely. When the chickens saw Paige nearing, they rushed to the gate.

“Hello, lovelies!” Paige threw open the gate and crouched down so she could pet each one and greet them by name. “You should say hello too, Marta! They hadn’t seen you in a while.”

Only three days had passed since Marta saw them. She looked down and said a quiet, “Hello.”

Most of the chickens remained in their huddle around Paige. Only one broke away to peck at Marta’s boot.

Marta took a step back. “I don’t think they like me much.”

“Nonsense! That’s just Henrietta’s way of saying hi!”

Three pecks later and Henrietta returned to the huddle, which parted when Paige stood. They followed her in a noisy flock and Marta trailed behind them. She was careful not to step on any tail feathers until they came to a coop about the size of a large shed.

Inside were rows of nesting boxes. Most of them were empty, but resting hens occupied a few. Hay covered the floor and a full feeder stood in the center. Against one of the walls sat a basket so large that it took both hands to hold. Above it, a clipboard hung from a tack that Paige took. “You mind holding the basket?”

“Not at all.” Marta took the basket and followed Paige as she gathered eggs from each nest. She made a tally on the clipboard after each one. In another column were names of townspeople that Paige marked off as well. The basket was filled to the brim by the time she was through.

“It’s all thanks to our girls working so hard. Isn’t that right?” Paige knelt down to pet a few of the chickens.

They all clucked in agreement.

“Don’t get too excited now,” she said, “We still have some work to do.”

To pass the time between tasks, Marta and Paige exchanged rumors picked up around town. Paige told of the neighbor couple whose cow had twin calves the same day as the wife bore two healthy sons, and a recipe for the best cornbread Paige had been trying to get the older ladies to tell her. They always said “when you’re married,” no matter how much Paige pressed. 

Marta, in turn, shared of a feud amongst the deacons of whether resources should be used to expand the chapel or build new homes for the growing population. Without Knoth to guide them, they bickered constantly. Some requested that Marta speak to Knoth on their behalf, but she always told them to pray for guidance. She never stayed to hear the arguments that followed.

“And that should about cover it,” Paige said once the rumors ran dry and the chores through. “Thanks so much for your help. I didn’t think we’d be able to finish so quickly.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I’m glad I could be of service.”

“I say we did enough to deserve some snacks, c’mon!” 

They started for the house so small that Marta had to duck her head to pass through the doorway. Inside, the home was cozy. The wooden floors always shone, a hand-knitted afghan draped over the sofa, and Paige’s embroidery projects decorated the walls.

The grey family mouser cat, Thomas, meowed a hello as they entered and rubbed against Paige’s leg. “Whatever he does, don’t listen to him,” she whispered to Marta. “He’ll play nice but he’s not supposed to eat for another two hours.”

“I see…”

While Paige gathered snacks, Marta took a seat, but her knees bumped on the table. She stretched her legs to the side, nearly kicking Thomas’s food bowl, and her bony hips edged the arm rests. It felt as if the chair were made for a doll rather than a person.

After a few minutes, Paige placed the snacks on the table and sat across from Marta, who already opened her gospel. 

“Shall we practice recitations now?” 

Paige pouted. “Do we have to? I was having a nice time just hanging out.”

“Just for a little. It will help with the test tomorrow.”

“Oh, alright.” Paige took out her own gospel. “Where are we starting?”

“Chapter 2.”

“Okay.” After finding her place, Paige skimmed over the words. “I guess I should start, huh?”

“If you would.”

Paige took a deep breath as she turned her gospel over and started. “Verse 1: Therefore—I mean, wherefore, gird up the loins of you that would listen...ready your minds. Be open and sober in patience for revelation, as obedient as children to parents, as parents to…”

“Another ‘P’ word,” Marta said when Paige trailed off too long.

“Prophets!”

“Right! Keep going.”

“As prophets to God and His angels. Verse 2: For as much as you—”

“‘Ye,’” Marta said.

“Oh, for as much as ye know that you—”

“‘Ye.’”

“Know that ye were not made incorruptible by incorruptible gold, so are the lies of traditions received from ye—”

“‘Your.’”

Paige huffed. “Why does it constantly switch between ‘ye’ and ‘you’? Wouldn’t it be easier to just pick one or the other?”

“The gospel is transcribed as the Lord makes it known to our prophet. Papa copies it as closely as he can remember, but he is still only a man, despite his gift of communing with our Lord Almighty.”

“Yeah, but...I’d still just pick one,” Paige said. “It’s so hard to read this way.”

“That is why it is of utmost importance that we study His word. It comes to us in a nearly pure, unfiltered state. Thus, it is to be expected that it takes multiple readings and studies to fully comprehend with our imperfect, human understanding. You need only practice patience and diligence and it shall become clear.”

“If you say so…”

They continued their studies until Paige successfully recited the full chapter. Marta congratulated her and Paige offered her gratitude.

“You were such a big help today around the farm. Let me send you home with something to say thanks.”

“That won’t be necessary, really—”

But Paige was already at the icebox, pulling out a half-dozen carton of eggs. “It’s not much, but I want you to have these as a thank-you. They’re fresh and can help you make a good meal.”

“You really don’t have to. It’s my pleasure to help, truly. I don’t want to deprive your home for something I volunteered to do.”

“It’s as much of a help to us as it is to you in your home. We always have too many anyhow.”

Only then could Marta accept Paige’s offering and go on her way.

Outside, she shivered in the autumn chill, and pulled her shawl over her shoulders before the walk home. The path she followed cut through town square, which bustled during the day with craftsmen and laborers gathering to trade their goods and services. With the setting sun, it quieted to only a few stray workers who started home as well. They greeted Marta and gave their regards to the prophet before musing over what their wives prepared for dinner.

Past the square, the houses became fewer and farther between until there came an incline in the trail. Atop it was the largest home. It stood at two stories but grander than any, with the exception of the chapel. All of Temple Gate could be seen from its spot.

Marta didn’t need to lower her head when she entered. She breathed easily underneath the high ceilings and spacious rooms, and left her school bag and shawl by the door. With the carton of eggs in hand, she went to the icebox. It took some rearranging for the contents to fit, along with taking out the leftover beef to make a stew for dinner. While it never turned out as sweet as she hoped, it came with a roasted, smoky scent that welcomed her after a chilly day.

She set two places at the table, when she realized she had neglected to get the rolls from the pantry. However, she found the basket empty.

A heavy sigh followed. She abandoned the kitchen to travel up the stairs. There were two directions she could go. Left led to her bedroom. Right went to the one place in the home forbidden to her.

She went right.

Though she was not to enter Knoth’s bedroom without his explicit permission, the door was never locked. She only took a deep breath to prepare herself to pass through the doorway.

The smell of incense and wine always made her eyes water, strongest at the bed that was too plush and large for one man. She pulled it until exposing an old rug. Folding it over revealed several loose floorboards. When Marta removed them, there was a cache of food large enough to last a week. Within it were the rolls wrapped in cloth, which Marta took. The rest, she left in its place, putting the boards back and the rug as it was.

She stood so she could push the bed back to its proper spot when something metallic clattered onto the ground. At Marta’s feet lay the hunting knife that took Knoth’s eye years before. Once she finished pushing the bed, she picked up the blade and tucked it underneath the pillow before before leaving the room.

Upon exiting, she took in a deep breath of clean air before descending the stairs and returned to the dining room to finish setting the table and fetching the drinks. Beside Knoth’s, she placed three capsules, one for migraines, another for aching joints, and the third to help him sleep.

Then, she straightened the tablecloth and waited. She fiddled with the food on her plate, but never took a bite. Occasionally, she looked up at the front door, but never for more than a moment. 

No one entered, but Marta sat until the food went cold. Only then did she take a bite. Three more and she abandoned the meal. She placed Knoth’s portion in the overstuffed ice box, then dumped her own in the trash. She glanced at the door once more before retiring for bed.


	2. Chapter 2

Mrs. Carson returned the tests to Paige and Marta, both with perfect marks. To reward themselves, they skipped recitations and planned a trip to the lake. However, Paige requested a few extra minutes when Marta decided to leave.

“That would be fine, but what do you need the time for?” Marta asked. “I thought you had finished your chores.”

“I have to make the popcorn!” Paige went to dig through the pantry and pull out a bag of kernels.

“Popcorn? But we already ate.”

“It’s not for us! It’s for the duckies!” Paige emptied the bag into a pot and lit the stove.

Marta’s mouth formed a line. “You’re making fresh food for ducks?”

“Yeah!” Paige leaned in to hear the first kernels pop.

“Isn’t that wasteful? It would be better to use food past its prime for such a simple purpose.”

Paige pretended to gag. “I’m not gonna give the ducks bad food! That’s gross!” She spoke with such indignation that Marta didn’t argue any further, instead listening to the flurry of pops and Paige’s humming.

When the noise died down, Paige dumped the still-steaming popcorn into a paper bag. It was so large that Paige needed both arms to hold it. “I’m ready now!” She smiled so brightly over the mountain of popcorn that Marta couldn’t help but smile back.

They walked out the door and stopped at the gate so Paige could throw a handful of popcorn in the yard.

The chickens pecked at the dirt, while Paige blew kisses at them. A few looked up to cluck as Paige and Marta started their journey to the lake.

The trail to the water’s edge snaked through town square. On their way through, they passed a gaggle of laundresses who gabbed about suspected affairs, mechanics who grumbled about maintaining the few trucks in town and the rising gas prices. A pair of seamstresses stopped to greet Marta and Paige, bidding a good day to Paige and giving Marta their regards to the prophet.

The groups of people dwindled as Marta and Paige drew closer to the lake. Most of the hunters and gatherers dwelt there, a quiet, though hardier sort. Aside from people further in town coming to trade for meats and furs, they seldom socialized.

Marta went empty handed. No matter who she asked, they took nothing and insisted on giving her extra.

“In regards to the prophet,” they would always say.

She never told them that the surplus rotted underneath the floorboards.

Only Otis could be trusted to give what she requested and nothing more. She and Paige sought him out, but it was a brown-haired tot they found first. He crouched in the dirt, poking at a hole with a long stick.

“Isn’t that Otis’s brother?” Paige asked.

“I think so.”

“Is anyone watching him?”

Marta scanned the area in search for someone. “It doesn’t seem so.”

“Maybe we should get him. I can’t imagine Otis left him alone.”

“I’ll fetch him. You best stay back. There’s no telling what he’s gotten into.” 

She walked to the child and called out his name. “Seth?”

He looked up at her with a toothy smile. “Hi, Miss Martha!”

“It’s Marta.” 

“That’s what I said! Martha!”

Her brow furrowed. “You’re not here alone, are you?”

“No, you’re here!”

“I mean before I arrived.”

“Nuh-uh, just me.”

“Does Otis know?”

Seth’s eyes widened. “You’re not gonna tell ‘im, are ya?”

“I haven’t even met with him yet.”

“Good, then don’t tell ‘im.” He returned his attention to the hole, poking at it again.

“Why not?”

“He tol’ me to stay put while he got his bait box, but I ran away.”

“Why would you do a thing like that?”

“Because fishin’ is boring. Nothin’ exciting ever happens.”

“Nothing is happening now.”

“That’s cuz the snake won’t come out to play!” He jabbed the stick in deeper. Upon removing it, a rattlesnake poked its head out. It locked its eyes on Seth and hissed. Seth giggled in delight.

“Seth, no!” Otis ran in and scooped Seth up. He stomped at the snake so it retreated back into the hole, then dug his heel in the dirt so it caved in on itself. All the while, Seth laughed.

“What were you doing?” Otis snapped upon setting Seth a good distance from the nest.

Seth pouted. “I wanted to see the snake.”

“And what did I tell you about rattlesnakes?”

“That they’re dangerous…”

“And?”

“That I’m not s’posed to play with ‘em.”

“Then why were you playing with it?”

When Seth shrugged, Otis sighed.

“What if you got bit? What then?”

“That’s why I had this!” Seth held up the stick. “If it tried to bite me, I was gonna whack it on the head!” He wielded the stick like a sword and struck at the air, cuing a groan from Otis.

“Nevermind.” He took Seth’s free hand and turned to Marta and Paige. “I’m sorry if he caused you two any trouble. He’s been a nightmare since he learned to run.” He gave Seth a sideways glance. “Apologize.”

“But I didn’t—”

“Seth.”

“Oh alright.” Seth kicked at the dirt. “Sorry for causin’ trouble.”

“He really didn’t do anything,” Marta assured. “We were only concerned that he was alone.”

“Well, thanks for staying with him until I got here. I really don’t know how he runs off so fast with those little legs.”

“My legs aren’t little!”

“Whatever you say.” Otis released Seth’s hand so he could ruffle his hair. When he left it there, Seth huddled close and hugged Otis’s leg. “So what brings you two down here?”

“We’re gonna feed the ducks!” Paige held up the overflowing bag, much to Otis’s dismay.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to feed them all of that.”

“What else would I feed them?” Paige maintained a smile even as Otis dragged a hand down his face.

“If you give them that much, the carp will come. You remember what happened last time, don’t you?”

“It’s okay. I’ll feed them slower this time!” Before Otis could argue, Paige hurried ahead, pieces of popcorn falling behind her.

Seth followed the trail. When he reached for one of the pieces, Otis tugged on his hand. “No eating off the ground. I’ll get you a snack when we get home.”

“Can I pick which snack it is?” Seth asked excitedly.

“You’re not having cookies.”

“Ah, man!”

Marta lagged behind so she could walk alongside them.

“What about you?” Otis asked her. “I doubt you came all this way just to feed the ducks.”

“I was actually hoping I could bother you for some sunfish. I need them for a recipe, but if it’s an inconvenience, I could easily ask someone else.”

“If you don’t mind giving me some time to catch a couple for you, that’s fine.”

They arrived at a home on the shoreline then, a sturdy and perfectly sized house for four. However, the yard was littered with whisky jugs and the stench of alcohol floated through the air. It was strongest by a woman slumped in a chair on the porch. She had the same unruly, curly hair and murky eyes as Otis, though hers were fogged over as if awoken from a deep slumber. Though Otis walked by to enter the house, Seth ran to her. “Hiya, Momma!”

She yawned in response. “Hey, kid.”

“We’re gonna feed the ducks with Miss Martha and Paige! You should come too! It’ll be fun!” He took her hand, but she pulled it away to reach for a half empty jug at her feet.

“Maybe next time. I got a headache right now.”

“Oh, okay…” Seth’s voice sank.

Otis came out of the house with a stick of beef jerky for Seth. “There ya go. That should hold you over until dinner.” Otis sent him off. He attempted to follow with Marta, but stopped when the woman called out to him.

“Otis, what time is it?”

“It’s three, Mom,” he replied.

“Ah shit, your dad’ll be home in a couple hours. Care to cover dinner tonight? I’d do it myself, but—”

“Sure, whatever.”

“Thanks, I owe ya one!” She called as he stormed off.

“Can you believe her?” Otis seethed to Marta when they were out of earshot. “I’ve cooked dinner every night this week. She owes me like eight at this rate! I wouldn’t even mind if she actually did something all day, but she just sits on that porch for hours while I’m the one watching after Seth, keeping up with fishing requests, and going to school. I’m run ragged as it is! At least Dad actually goes out and contributes to this house!”

“Well, she stays home and keeps house, doesn’t she?” Marta asked. “Being a wife and mother can be a trying duty from what I hear.”

Otis rolled his eyes. “Thanks for reminding me. I could add all that to the list of things she dumps on me.”

“I’m sorry,” Marta uttered.

“It’s fine. It’s not like it’s your fault. I just wish she’d help out more, y’know?” He would have complained more if they hadn’t neared the end of the dock where Paige and Seth could hear them.

“What were ya talkin’ about?” Seth asked.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Otis’s tone softened considerably when he sat beside Seth.

“You’re just in time!” Paige beamed. “Look!”

A dozen or so ducks had gathered beneath them. They quacked and preened while Paige threw the popcorn. Though she attempted to distribute the popcorn evenly, several ducks would leave their place to shoo the others away and steal kernels. Still, she managed to get them in a large enough huddle that all ate at least a few pieces through their bickering. 

“You should feed a few!” She held out the bag to Otis, but he shook his head.

“Nuh-uh. I want no part in this.”

“You’re no fun!” Paige stuck out her tongue, then turned to Marta. “How about you? You should feed some!”

Having lingered behind them, Marta stepped forward to join the group. It seemed crowded with her presence. 

Nonetheless, Paige shoved the bag into Marta’s hands.

“Are you sure?” Marta asked. “You were having such a nice time, and you’re the one who made all the popcorn.”

“That’s why you should feed them! It’s fun!”

“Okay…” Marta took a few pieces from the bag and tossed them towards a particular greedy duck.

Paige’s laughter followed. “Aren’t they cute!”

“They all look the same to me,” Marta admitted.

“But if you watch them long enough, you see they all have their own personalities!” Paige pointed to a large mallard. “I think that one’s the leader because the others didn’t eat until he had a piece. Then there’s the smaller one over there, who is slower than the others. I think it’s because she’s shy and wants to be polite.”

Paige continued to point out each duck as Marta fed them. Her smiles were as bright and infectious as ever. Even Otis cracked a grin when Paige began naming them. Then Seth tugged on Marta’s skirt. “I wanna feed ‘em now!”

“Seth.” Otis raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Seth tilted his head in confusion.

“The magic word we talked about?” 

“Oh yeah!” Seth perked back up. “I wanna feed them now, please!”

He didn’t wait for Marta to give him the sack, snatching it from her. Taking a handful, he chucked it into the water. Several pieces fell on the large mallard. The other ducks flocked to peck them off, bringing forth a series of distressed quacks. “Otis, look! They’re fighting! Otis, are you looking? Look!”

“Yeah, I see them,” Otis said.

“Keep watchin’! I’m gonna do it again!”

He tossed in another fistful, but none of the ducks ate from it. Instead, a fish stole pieces from underneath the fowl. “The fish are here!”

“Please don’t tell me it’s the bottom feeders.” Otis peered into the lake to see a school of large, brown carp, each the size of two ducks, some even larger. They circled beneath them, their mouths agape.

Paige gasped in horror. “Oh no!” She took a piece of popcorn and attempted to throw it at one of the ducks, but the fish stole that piece too. Some of them became so eager that they butted at the ducks to drive them away. “Duckies, come back!” Paige threw popcorn at them furiously, but only succeeded in summoning more oversized carps until all the ducks swam off.

They stood in silence until Otis remarked, “Told ya so.”

“Oh, Otis, can’t you catch them all with a net or something?” Paige pleaded.

He leaned over to look at the flopping, pulsating mass of fish. “I could, but not like I have anywhere to dump them.”

“Why not save them for food?” Marta suggested.

Otis sighed heavily. “Because they taste disgusting no matter how you cook them.”

“Then what’s the point of them?” Paige threw her hands in the air. 

“This!” Seth tipped the bag to dump the remainder of the popcorn into the lake. At such an abundance, the fish became more frenzied. They flopped and flailed over each other so much that they splashed onto the dock. Everyone took a step back except for Seth, who continued to laugh. “I love when they do that!”

“At least someone does,” Otis grumbled. “Those old fishermen are gonna kill me when they find out we flooded the docks with these again.”

“They should feed ‘em too!” Seth chimed in. “Then they’ll realize how fun it is and not be angry!”

Otis groaned. “Seth, oh my God.”

“Papa says it’s a sin to use the Lord’s name in vain like that!”

“I—” Otis looked as if he might snap, but took a deep breath to calm himself. “I know. Just remember to be more considerate. We’re not the only ones who use these docks.”

“Okay, I’ll ‘member next time!” Seth said, like he did every other time.

Glancing aside, Paige spotted a fisherman on the next dock glaring at them. “I should get going.” She scanned the shoreline in search for an excuse, perking up at a familiar face. “I have to help get dinner ready, and I see Dad over there bit off more than he could chew.” Past the group was a man with the same blonde hair, fair skin, and small stature. His arms were so full that he could only smile when Paige waved at him.

“Then see ya at school on Monday?” Otis asked.

“Yes, until then.” Paige bid everyone farewell and waved as she joined her father’s side to take the lightest items from him.

Marta watched as they chattered happily to each other. Paige nearly had a skip in her step, which made Marta sigh heavily before Otis spoke out.

“Guess it’s just us.”

“I suppose so.”

“Then we best get your sunfish. We’re going to have to go further downstream to get what you need with all these damn carp.”

“That’s fine.”

“Down where the extra muddy beaches are?” Seth asked eagerly.

Otis fought back a sigh. “Yes, Seth, the extra muddy beaches.”

“Yaaaay!” Seth jumped up and down. “Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!”

By the time Marta and Otis gathered fishing lines and a few nets, Seth was already rolling around in the mud and splashing in the water. “Stay where I can see you!” Otis called as he cast the baited lines. After weighing them down, he sat and waited.

“So, how have you been as of late?” Marta asked as she took a seat beside him.

“Was good until I found out Dad was coming home. Bombed my last test and I know he won’t let me hear the end of it.”

“Did you not properly prepare?”

“Does it matter? Either way, once I turn eighteen, I’m gonna be put right to work.”

“That does not mean you should forsake your education! You should have joined me and Paige in our studies the other day. I’m sure it would have benefitted you.”

“It’s just a few more months.” Otis frowned. “No need to stress myself out until then.”

“And you believe work for the testament will ease the stress of your schooling?”

“I dunno, but it’d be a nice change of scenery to go further downstream with the other fishermen on their trips. It’s just Seth I’m worried about.” His gaze wandered to the beach where Seth gathered a handful of mud and threw it in the water. “Mom’s drinking more and Dad is…less said about him the better. They’re not good for Seth.”

“You needn’t worry. Papa wouldn’t allow one of his children to be ill cared for.”

“Right…” Otis stared into the murky water before speaking again. “What’s it like living with him anyway?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s in charge of this whole place. I imagine it’d be like walking on eggshells with him around all the time.” 

When Marta delayed in her response, he continued. “Sorry. That was out of line. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“I’m not offended. I just never thought about it that way before.”

“Then how do you think of it?”

“I don’t,” Marta replied curtly. “I have no need to. It’s always been easy, natural even. As if it has always been so, to be at his side, thus I have no need to question it as you do.”

“Sounds nice,” Otis uttered in response.

“It is. I’m most blessed that I can trust our prophet so wholly.”

“Yeah…”

“I pray that one day you find such peace,” Marta said quietly.

“I do too,” he mumbled, more to himself.

The fishing rod jolted and Otis rushed to pull in an oversized carp. Though Otis sighed, Marta barely stifled a laugh. It wasn’t until they caught half a dozen more that any other fish appeared.


	3. Chapter 3

Heavy raindrops pounded on the roof of the Larsen home. Many of them trickled through a crack, landing in a bucket set to catch the leak. Thomas warmed himself by the fireplace, the crackling of the flames drowned out by the raging storm outside.

Paige and Marta sat side by side on the sofa. Paige focused on her latest knitting project. The yarn was wrapped around Marta’s hand. Marta turned pages of the gospel in her lap.

“What are you making?” Marta asked upon completing a chapter.

“A sweater.” 

Paige worked on a pink sweater just large enough for an infant. Purple thread broke up the sea of pink, creating the letter ‘F’. “Uh...who is it for?”

“It’s for Felicity, of course!” Paige held it up high. “Pink is her favorite color!”

“Do the chickens really need sweaters?”

“Of course! They get cold too!”

“Isn’t that what their feathers are for?”

“Yes, but don’t you think they’d look cute in these?” Paige smiled and Marta managed one of her own.

“I’m sure they will.”

Returning to their reading and knitting, Marta finished another chapter and Paige completed the sweater. Before starting a green one for Georgette, Paige excused herself to use the bathroom. When she stood, there was a spot of red where she sat. The same as the red on the back of her dress.

“Paige?”

“Huh?” All color drained from her face as she turned. “Oh no…” She hurried back to the couch and flipped the blood stained cushion over then ran to her bedroom. Several minutes later, she returned in a new, clean dress, her expression panicked.

Marta never left the couch.“Paige, you—”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone!” she blurted out before Marta could finish.

“But Paige—”

“Promise!”

A crack of thunder responded before Marta. The flash of light reflected off Paige’s eyes, wider and shining bright.

“Okay, I promise,” Marta conceded with a sigh.

Paige let out a sigh of relief. Her shoulders sank, but she would not sit back on the couch. Instead, she paced back and forth, muttering to herself

“Are you okay?” Marta asked.

“No. This wasn’t supposed to happen yet.”

“When did you think it was going to? You’re about the right age.”

“I know, but…I thought I’d have a few months more, at least. This is a sign of womanhood, but nothing has changed.”

“I imagine it would take time to adjust,” Marta flinched at a particularly bright flash of lightning.

“Time I plan on taking.” The bucket spilled over. Thomas whined, but neither Paige nor Marta answered the call. 

“But how long?” Marta asked, maintaining eye contact with Paige. “You can’t keep it a secret forever.”

“I don’t know. Maybe as long as you? You haven’t bled yet right?”

“I have not.” Marta’s voice was so low that the rain pounding the roof nearly drowned it out. It hadn’t rained so hard since the week before her fifteenth birthday. The water had flooded the town and damaged many of the buildings, soaking floors and rugs. Knoth and she had watched the storm from atop the hill, only hearing about the damage the following morning. It was the last time Knoth spent an entire day with her.

“Then I’m sure people will believe that I take longer to bleed. They will think you and I are the same in our delay.” Paige traded out the flooded bucket and hushed Thomas. He lapped at the puddle left from the overflow.

“I don’t understand. Why are you so fearful of womanhood? You speak as if there will be no joy in taking your place among our people.”

“Because I’m not ready to marry and have kids, but I know that’s what’s going to happen.”

“Why is that a problem? It’s a woman’s greatest honor to bear children for the testament.”

“That doesn’t make it any less frightening. Having children here is dangerous. How do I know it’ll be okay?”

Marta hadn’t an argument to dissuade her. 

Since Temple Gate’s founding, many women passed in fulfilling their greatest duty. Their names were immortalized on tombstones littered around the graveyard that wasn’t even a decade old, while Knoth lauded their sacrifices and gifted their husbands new, younger wives to raise the children left behind.

All Marta could do was give her word to keep Paige’s secret before departing. 

The week went on and barely ended when the laundresses spotted red where Paige soaked her sheets. Word spread to Knoth and he insisted on meeting with the Larsens to provide counsel and guidance. A dinner in their home a week from the discovery, he had suggested. He hadn’t once scolded Paige for hiding her state.

In the time leading up to his scheduled visit, Paige went through school in a daze. She would miss questions and stare out the window. Mrs. Carson dismissed it as excessive daydreaming, but even in her home, Paige often asked Marta to repeat herself and seldom relaxed.

It wasn’t until the evening that Knoth was due to the Larsen home that Paige regained her attentiveness. She flitted to and from the kitchen in a hurry, organizing the table so that every dish and piece of silverware lined up perfectly.

Marta worked on sweeping the floor and dusting counters.

“Do you think that looks good?” Paige asked of the pot of blue wildflowers in the center of the table.

“It looks great,” Marta replied for the dozenth time.

“Are you sure? Maybe these would be better.” She swapped the wildflowers for a small vase of daisies.

“Those look great too.”

“But which ones look better?”

“I don’t know…?”

“Maybe the tablecloth is the problem.” Paige dug into the cabinet and sorted through dingy table covers with frayed edges.

“There’s no need for that,” Marta said. “The one you picked out looks well enough.”

The blue cloth clashed with the faded designs of the once-fine china. Yellow roses bordered the edges of the dishes, but the years turned it into a color resembling rust. They might have been disposed of long ago if they were not the last remnants of Paige’s mother. 

“Are you sure?” Paige bit her lip. “Maybe the green one would look better. It’s a bit cleaner but then there’s that rip…”

“It’s fine. I don’t think this house could look any better if we tried.”

“I know, I know.” Paige straightened out the skirt of her nicest dress, a pretty white gown reserved for Sunday services. “It’s just that Papa has never entered our home before and considering the reason, it’s important that he be pleased with us.”

“Oh, Paige.” Sympathy coated Marta’s voice. “You needn’t fear Papa being unfair when it is your future that brings him to your home. He does not need finery and airs. All he asks for is your ear and willingness. Give him that, and he shall be just and kind in his decision.”

“...That’s all there is to it?”

“Yes, of course.”

Nonetheless, Paige’s frowned.

“What’s the matter? Is there something else on your mind?”

“There is, but…please keep it between us that I asked.”

“You have my word.”

She waited a while before speaking. “Papa is...decent towards you, right? With me….you don’t think he’ll…?” She stiffened when she couldn’t finish her thought.

Marta’s jaw dropped. She had seen her share of the testament’s women throw themselves at their prophet. They wept of nightmares and begged for comfort that none other may provide. Sometimes she saw a glint in his eye and a lecherous grin when he thought she wasn’t around to see. It was only when she was passing through the hall or a door was left ajar when he offered private counsel to the testament’s women. Marta never stayed to see what followed. 

“The prophet treats me as if I were his own. As a child; not a lover, and you are even younger than me. I cannot envision him finding any desire towards you at this time. Perhaps a day will come when you find comfort in his arms as so many others do, but you must find your own place first.”

“Really?” A light hope lifted Paige’s voice. “So you think it will all be okay?”

“Yes, I promise. Why would you think otherwise?”

“It’s just...sometimes I hear things around town. How the prophet’s greatest pleasure comes from the women in our testament. I never thought much of it before, but now...I suppose I’m technically a woman now, so I wasn’t sure.”

“Then I assure you to put those worries to rest. I’ve lived with him since Temple Gate’s founding and he has always treated me with respect and kindness.”

Paige forced a smile. “That’s good. Then perhaps I worry for nothing. After all, you know him better than anyone else.”

“Thus I hope you can trust me when I say that all will be well.”

“I do. I feel much better hearing it from you. I just wish you could stay, but Papa insists that the meeting remain exclusive between family.”

“I understand, but before I go, I would like to pray for you.”

“That would be nice.”

Marta took Paige’s small hands into her own. She closed her eyes and bowed her head before speaking. “Our Father who art in Heaven, please be with Paige tonight as You make known Your plan for her. Give her strength and wisdom to face the path You have set. Allow her to flourish and take joy in walking in Your footsteps. Praise be to the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Knoth. Amen.”


	4. Chapter 4

Paige said nothing the following day. Not when the teacher called on her. Not when class let out for recess. Not even when the bells chimed. She stormed past Marta and Otis wordlessly.

Otis raised an eyebrow, leaving Marta to pursue, shouting after her. “Paige, wait!”

Paige looked over her shoulder for only a moment before speeding up. “Leave me alone.”

Though Paige nearly ran, Marta easily caught up to her. “But why? I won’t tell anyone. I swear it.”

Paige stopped and spun around to face Marta. Her eyes were puffy and her hands balled into fists. “Like how you didn’t tell me what was going to happen!?” 

Her exclamation rang through town square. A group of laborers glanced to Paige, but only Marta responded. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Don’t you play dumb!” Tears bubbled in the corners of Paige’s eyes. “You must have known! He tells you everything so why couldn’t you tell me!?”

“I don’t understand.” Marta shrank. “What is it that I should have known?”

“Just forget it! It’s too late now, but maybe if I had known—” Paige rubbed her eyes. “There...there had to have been something I could have done, but—” She swallowed a sob. “How was I supposed to know on my own!?” 

Marta’s tone became serious. “Paige, what are you talking about?”

Paige stared at her in disbelief. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“I swear to God that I don’t know what you speak of. I hardly even see Papa these days, he’s so busy. He couldn’t have told me anything.”

Paige seemed to speak more to herself than Marta. “Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference. If he really...how was I supposed to fight back…”

“Fight back what?” Marta asked slowly, reluctantly.

“The prophet’s desire to lie with me.” All color drained from her face. Her voice shrank to a whisper, eyes wide.

Any words that would bring Paige comfort remained in the back of Marta’s throat.

“You don’t have anything to say to that?”

Marta shook her head, as if awoken from slumber. “It...it is a great honor to receive the prophet and his seed.”

“Then why did it hurt so much!?” Tears escaped Paige at last, streaming down her cheeks.

People stopped and stared. Hammering against the buildings fell silent. Someone might have approached if Marta wasn’t so quick to take Paige’s hand and guide her aside to a shaded area. She claimed a stiff, uncomfortable bench of wood on the verge of splintering and sat beside Paige. 

Her cries evolved into sobs in the passing minutes. Other schoolgirls had wept in that same spot before, collapsing onto the bench when walking home. Marta had always passed them by. She had never bothered to find the reason for their weeping.

“Are you feeling better now?” Marta asked when Paige only sniffled.

“No!” Though she shouted, too many tears strained her voice. It came out like a final gasp. “It still hurts. Even though I waited and waited for that pleasure everyone spoke of, it never came and I just felt gross after, and it hurt so much…” She buried her face in her apron and cried again.

“At least it’s over now, right?” was all Marta could offer.

Paige froze, uncovering her face. “...Is it? You don’t think he’ll come to me again, do you?”

Marta opted to look at the dirt instead of meeting Paige’s gaze. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t know.”

“But—” A hiccup interrupted. “You can ask him.”

“W-what? No...I couldn’t.”

“And why not? He couldn’t be angry if it was you. Maybe you can even tell him I wouldn’t be fit to bear children. That way he wouldn’t even want to come to me. Oh, Marta, please tell me you’ll try. He’d have to listen to you.”

Marta shifted. “I don’t know…”

“Even if he doesn’t, if I just know when he’ll come back, I...I can figure something out! If I pretend I’m sick, make myself unappealing to him, just maybe...” She wiped the last of her tears away.

“I suppose...I can try…” 

Paige let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Marta. Thank you…”

“But I can’t promise his answer.”

“I know, I know. It’s just that...it’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

Marta nodded.

“Thank you.” Paige attempted a smile, but not even a second later, she wept. Her cries were loud and tears heavy. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m still crying…”

Marta said nothing. She only sat beside her until she quieted.

They parted ways then. Paige returned home to rest. Marta went the opposite way to her large, empty home. 

Upon entering, she attended to as many chores as possible to distract from the gnawing pain in her stomach. She swept the floors, dusted the shelves, and organized the ice box twice. By the time it came to prepare dinner, her limbs weighed her down and her head spun. Even so, she forced herself through the motions. 

The table was first set with only her spot, until she realized Knoth’s space was neglected. She went to fetch him a plate, but before she could reach the table, the door opened.

The plate fell and shattered at her feet as she looked into Knoth’s eye. A silence filled the distance between them, until Marta forced, “Welcome home, Papa.”

Knoth raised an eyebrow. “Good evening, child.”

“I’ll clean that up right now.” Marta hurried to the closet to fetch the broom and dustpan. She herded the jagged shards into the pan. When Knoth offered to help, she pretended not to hear and passed him by to dispose the mess. 

She fetched a new plate and reset his spot, filling it with the oversized portions he always requested. One wrong move and the abundance would spill.

“Many thanks,” Knoth said when she set the feast before him. “It’s been so long since I’ve had your cooking.”

“It has been,” Marta murmured. Her fork scraped across the plate, mixing the mashed potatoes with the meat, but she never took a bite.

“So how have you been, my child?” He asked halfway through his serving. “I feel as if I hardly see you these days.”

Marta’s eyes remained glued to the table. “I’ve been well. How about yourself?”

“Far too busy. You know how the farmers get when winter is near. This year has been most bountiful, yet they still fear we won’t have enough to survive the winter.” He shook his head. “We’ve survived each year, even when there was little to spare. You think their faith would be stronger by now.”

“Uh-huh.” Marta’s stomach tightened.

Knoth set his fork and knife down and looked at Marta. “Something is troubling you.”

“Hm?” At last, she took a bite. The food tasted like ash through the seasonings and grease.

Knoth waited until she swallowed before speaking up.

“Tell me what is on your mind, child. It pains me to see you so downcast.”

She shrugged. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Marta.”

“Actually…” She took a deep breath. “There is something I would like to ask you.”

“Is that all?” Knoth chuckled. “Then you need only ask. You have my ear.”

She sighed before lifting her gaze. “Papa—” She cut short when looking into the hollow eye socket. It was dark as the nights when she waited in the wilderness for his return. To look into that emptiness made her shiver as if the icy wind passed through her still. “May I be excused? I feel unwell.”

Knoth reached across the small table to place a hand to her forehead. She stiffened at his touch, but held her tongue. 

“Yes, you do feel quite feverish.”

Marta relaxed when he retracted his hand.

“If that is all, then I agree retiring early would be wise,” he said.

“Thank you.” She started to rise when Knoth cleared his throat.

“After you’ve had a few more bites.” He pointed to her nearly full plate.

“But Papa—”

“Just a few, please,” He pleaded rather than demanded. “You already eat so little…”

Marta said nothing as she sat. She quickly cut four bites, and forced herself to eat them, barely chewing enough to swallow. Setting her silverware down, she stood from the table. “Good night, Papa.” She hurried up the stairs to her room and slammed the door.

She leaned against the wall and curled into herself. Clutching her aching gut, she remained there until the queasiness dissipated, and went to her bed to take the gospel from the bedside table. Flipping to Chapter 10, she ran her finger down the page until she reached Verse 5.

'And I asked the Lord for guidance of the temptations of many wives and a voice of strong wine spoke: know ye not Abraham, Jacob, David, and Solomon. Verse 6: It is simply commanded that you take no woman as rival to her sister. Do not uncover one’s nakedness while the other is alive.'

Marta read and reread the verse that followed.

'Nor take your daughters as rival to their mothers before their blood or while the elder is alive.'

Her hands grasped at the dark cross she wore around her neck. Once, it belonged to her mother; the same mother she likened as dead, just as Paige’s mother who had abandoned her long before the testament.

Heavy footsteps interrupted her reading, their sound so familiar that she could barely remember a time they weren’t there. Marta lowered the gospel and listened as they stopped right outside the door. She waited for a knock or a ‘good night,’ but neither came. Nothing came. Taking a deep breath, she remained, but the silence dragged so long that she had to release it. Only then did the footsteps return, distancing with each step.


	5. Chapter 5

Mrs. Carson’s lectures vanished from Marta’s mind once the bells chimed. Chatter from passing students was muffled, even distorted, as if they spoke underwater. All the while, Marta remained in her seat, staring at the swirls in her desk, until Paige’s voice broke through, loud and clear.

“Did you ask him?”

Marta looked up to see Paige’s cheeks as blanche as the day before, though her voice no longer quivered. Suggesting they go outside, Marta led the way through the schoolyard. She said nothing until Paige asked again.

Marta held her head high to avoid her gaze. “About that…”

“If it’s bad news, I won’t be mad at you, I promise,” Paige said when Marta took too long. Her voice quieted as she continued. “I just would like to know what he said.”

“He never came home last night,” Marta replied.

“Oh…” Paige’s pace slowed and her eyes glazed over.

“I’m sorry, Paige, truly…”

“It’s okay.” She sighed. “If he never came home, there’s nothing you could’ve done.”

“Right.”

“But you will ask him when you see him again, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” Marta choked out. She attempted a cough to cover her hesitation.

“Until then, will you come to the barn with me? I don’t need help with chores or studying or anything like that. I just don’t want to be alone until Father comes home.”

Marta shook her head. “I can’t. Not today. There is much I must attend to.”

“I understand,” Paige murmured. “See you after the sabbath then?”

“Yes, until then,” Marta said. “Good day and God bless.”

“God bless, Marta.”

Paige’s eyes followed Marta until she was out of sight. Even when Marta escaped her stare, she hurried through the town square, as if being pursued. Any who greeted her received mutterings of urgent business and an automatic “God bless.” She didn’t settle until entering the church.

Only the chapel stood higher than Knoth’s home. It could be seen from much of Temple Gate and welcomed people even outside of worship hours. Many would come for counsel, prayer requests, and confession.

Scattered candles barely lit the main chamber. Most of the light came from sunshine that streamed through the windows, catching the dust in the air. 

On one side, an older man and his young wife knelt before the cross. They had married last spring when she had turned fourteen, but had yet to bear children. At the other end, the head deacon bid farewell to a frazzled woman who fretted over her sickly son at every chill in the air. Knoth was nowhere to be seen among them.

When the woman exited, Marta approached the head deacon. “Good day, sir.”

“Good day, Marta.” He bowed his head to her. “Can I help you this fine day?”

“Yes, is there someone available to hear my confession?”

“If that’s all, it can be done. You go wait in the booth and I’ll find someone for you.”

“Thank you.” Marta hunched over so she could fit inside the enclosure. Cracks of light shone through and hit the mahogany wood she sat upon. She sat stiff and quiet on the uncomfortable, worn bench while waiting for an anonymous voice from the other side of the screen perpendicular to her.

“You may state your confession now, child.” The voice resonated deeply and sounded bored. Marta recognized it as one of the chosen deacons. She could place them all by voice alone.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, it has been two weeks since my last confession.” She made the sign of the cross. “For I have lied to my sister in Christ this day, as I have shown cowardice in the presence of the prophet.”

“‘Tis a common vice of the flesh. To fear that which is holy is a human trait, thus leading man into dishonesty. Therefore, if you wish to find good conscience, you must face your lies and those you’ve deceived to right the wrongs committed.”

“Even if such a confession may weaken the relationships built with the individuals in question?” Marta asked.

“The relationships have already been weakened by the serpent’s lying tongue. Until reparation is made, the bonds can never be returned to their former states,” the voice grunted.

“And what if the person is angered?”

“Then you return to the church for counsel. You have sullied your relations by lying, but upon confession, the other party can practice forgiveness in the name of our Lord. You need only make reparation.”

Marta sighed, “I understand…”

“Then is there anything else you need counsel on?”

“No, that is all. Thank you.”

“Then I ask that you make an act of contrition.”

Marta bowed her head and grasped the cross around her neck. “O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of Heaven, and the pains of Hell; but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, Who is all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace, to sin no more and avoid near occasions of sin. Praise be to the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Knoth. Amen.”

“I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. You may leave here in peace.”

After offering her gratitude, Marta left the confessional to stretch her limbs. In that moment, Knoth came through the doors of the back hall reserved for private counsel and meditation. At his side was Otis’s father. He was the most formidable of the testament’s men, towering over all except Marta, and always brought back the biggest game from the hunting trips. While he and Knoth spoke, Otis trailed behind them, dragging his feet, until they entered the most open area. He then traveled to the furthest back pew and plopped himself down with an exaggerated sigh. 

Rather than depart, Marta went to greet him. “Good day, Otis.”

“Hey, Marta,” he grumbled. His eyes never left his father while he spoke with Knoth.

“So...what brings you and your father to the chapel today?”

“He’s throwing a fit about my soul’s well-being again.” He rolled his eyes. “Seems to think I need saving when he’s the asshole with a record.”

“You mustn’t use such profanity in a holy place!” Marta scolded in a hushed tone.

“Then probably best we talk outside.” Otis forced himself up. He started for the exit when his father’s voice made him freeze.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Though he didn’t look towards him, his voice was low enough to make Otis shudder.

“Just outside for some fresh air,” he muttered, clutching to his arm.

“Don’t. We’re nearly done here. I want you to wait.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Can’t I just wait out front?”

His father turned around, brow furrowed, but Knoth spoke above him.

“Let him be. Marta is here. He won’t stray far.”

Though his father glared, he nodded and returned to conversing with Knoth.

Otis hurried out of the chapel, and Marta kept up easily. Once outside, he relaxed and leaned against the wall. “I wish I knew what that man had against me. It’s always like this when he comes home.”

“What makes you believe that to be true? He’s still your father. I’m sure he cares about you,” Marta said.

“That’s not gonna stop him from being a damn hypocrite. Now he’s harping on me for not wanting to take a wife. As if him and Mom make marriage look good. Yet he drags me here and rats me out to Knoth that I’m not ‘taking my place in Temple Gate.’”

“Perhaps he is trying to save you from the mistakes that he made on the outside.”

Otis scoffed. “You don’t know him like I do. If you asked him before all this, he’d say the only mistake he made was getting caught for all the shit he’s done. Just about ran Mom broke with all the bail she had to pay for him.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine. Not like you had anything to do with it. It’s just my lot in life.”

“But it doesn’t have to be that way,” Marta’s voice lifted. “Temple Gate can be a fresh start. Though our sins make us scarlet, they are made white as snow through God.”

There was a bitterness to Otis’s smile. “That’s just what Knoth told Dad when he found him, but I think he was just happy someone wasn’t calling him out on his bullshit.”

“But if his heart is sincere, I do not understand why you are distrustful of the chance to start anew.” Marta’s voice was neither harsh nor judging.

“Because some things, only God can forgive.” His tone cut the air. “Maybe Dad really has turned over a new leaf. Maybe he really is ‘white as snow’ in God’s eyes, but just because God forgives him doesn’t mean I have to.”

“But should we not strive to be like God?”

“We should, but maybe I’m just not good enough of a person for that.”

“That’s not true! I think you’re very good. I do believe you’re lost and frustrated, but by no means are you bad.”

His tone softened. “You might be the only one who thinks that.”

Before she could reply, the chapel doors flew open. “Otis! Get back in here! Papa wants a word with you.” 

“Do you really have to yell like that?” Otis rolled his eyes even as he flinched at his father’s voice.

“You little…” His right hand clenched into a fist, as if ready to strike, but after a deep breath, he settled on gripping Otis’s arm to drag him along, muttering something about honoring thy mother and father.

“Good day and God bless,” Marta called after them.

With his free arm, Otis offered a half-hearted wave. “Yeah, God bless.”


	6. Chapter 6

A pain greater than any hunger woke Marta the following morning. She clenched her teeth at the sharpness as she forced herself up. She then felt wetness where she sat. It drove her from the bed and she gasped.

Red stained the once crisp, white sheets. A puddle soaked through to the mattress. Looking down at herself, there were crimson stains on her nightgown, sticking it to her legs. She removed it and threw it aside, then dug out a clean gown and underwear from her dresser. Once changed, she poked her head into the hallway. When there was nothing in the direction of Knoth’s bedroom, she tiptoed to the bathroom. There, she took a clean rag and shoved it into her underwear, keeping a slow pace as she returned to her bedroom.

There, she gathered up the sheets and sullied garments to put in the laundry hamper. The hour was early enough to soak it at the water’s edge and return in time to make breakfast. Throwing on a jacket and pulling on a pair of boots, she hurried out, only to meet Knoth’s gaze as he too, headed toward the staircase.

His footsteps pounded in her ears as he approached. He looked not to her at first, but at the bloodied, crumpled sheets, smiling. “My, Marta…You’ve become a woman.”

Shuddering, she responded, “Yes, Papa.”

“Oh what joyous news this is. I have prayed many a time for this day.”

“You have?” Marta choked out.

“Of course I have,” He gripped both her arms. “Aren’t you eager to take your place in our town?”

Marta’s throat ran dry as she looked into his eye. There was an unnatural gleam to it. The longer she stared, the tighter his hold became. It took great effort to say, “Yes, Papa.”

At her compliance, he let go to take the basket from her. “I’ll drop this by the laundresses later today.” Without waiting for a response, he descended the stairs, while Marta stood still and unblinking. When Knoth left the final step she shook her head and followed him down.

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“Nonsense! You’re going to need your rest. I don’t want you to lift so much as a finger today. For today is a sabbath.”

“I am well enough to go about my day. A little sore, perhaps, but—”

Knoth put up a hand to silence her. “I won’t hear it. With a woman’s blood comes great pain, and yours may be greater than most due to the delay.”

“But I can handle pain,” Her voice was barely there, to which Knoth sighed.

“I know you can, but I still want you to rest. Your prophet asks this of you.”

Marta’s gaze softened before she resigned with, “Yes, Papa.” 

“Thank you, dearest,” He ushered her to the couch. “Now you just sit and I’ll take care of everything.”

Upon sitting, Marta realized she still wore the heavy boots. When she went to unlace them, Knoth caught both her hands. “Allow me.”

Marta said nothing as she retracted her hands and set them on her lap. She watched as Knoth knelt before her and grasped one of her legs so he could remove the boot. He did so with careful slowness.

All the while, Marta kept her knees locked. She never took her eyes off him.

Only after she uttered, “thank you,” did he rise. 

“I’ll take care of breakfast,” he grumbled.

Neither said anything more before Knoth went into the kitchen. Marta shifted in her seat whenever she heard the wooden spoon clang against the pot, the creak of the cupboards, the clinking dishes. 

“You’ll have to forgive me,” he said when he returned with a bowl of oatmeal. He sat beside her and handed her the dish. “I’m not as good in the kitchen as you are, but I can assure you it isn’t burned.”

“Thank you,” she said after a quick blessing.

“It’s no trouble. I only wish I could do more. I would stay with you, but there is much I must attend to.”

“I understand. The testament needs you.”

“They do, but I will try to be home early. You must be sure to rest while I am gone.” His voice softened as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“Yes, Papa,” she uttered.

“Good, good.” 

He stood then to prepare for his day. Marta never moved from her spot. She would answer any of his questions and commands with, “Yes, Papa,” but never anything more. When the door closed behind him, Marta lay on her side. She barely stirred from the sofa all day, and drifted to sleep waiting for Knoth to come home.


	7. Chapter 7

The flow lightened by the time Marta returned to school, despite her lethargy. Normally, a few people would greet her on her walk and give their usual regards to Knoth, but that morning they only whispered to each other while passing. 

Marta attempted to maintain her composure as if it were any other day, as if the chatter didn’t die the moment she stepped foot into the classroom, as if she didn’t feel every eye on her. She pretended to read her gospel.

Some of the talk returned, but in decidedly hushed tones. Only Otis’s voice came through clearly.

“Hey.”

“Good day, Otis,” Marta grumbled.

“You okay?”

She stiffened. “What do you mean?”

He shifted and averted his gaze. “Everyone knows.”

“W-what?” Marta covered her mouth when she realized she spoke too loudly. “You don’t mean? How…?”

“The laundresses are gossipy old hens,” he muttered. “Word gets around fast.”

Marta sank in her seat. “Oh…”

“I’m so sorry,” was the last thing Otis said before the bells rang.

Most of the students turned to the blackboard as Mrs. Carson approached, but when Marta lifted her head, she saw that Paige stared back at her. 

Class carried on like any other. Marta answered nearly every question, Paige read notes on her hands, and Otis slept through the last hour.

However, more than once, Mrs. Carson’s eyes lingered on Marta a little too long. 

When the bells rang, everyone departed quickly. One or two students gave the familiar regards to the prophet, but never asked of Marta’s state.

Only Paige stayed behind, approaching Marta’s desk as she gathered her things. “Hi.”

“Hello, Paige. How are you?” Marta asked carefully.

“I’m fine.” Her sigh filled the silence that followed. “Would you like to come over for a bit?” 

“I would. There’s something I wish to discuss with you in private.”

“Then we best get going.”

If not for the dirt crunching beneath their feet, Marta and Paige would have walked in complete silence all the way to the farmhouse. The voices of the testament served as little more than white noise, like a soft static.

Upon arriving, Paige opened the front door. She flinched when she saw her father in the front room.

He tended to the home with the attention Paige would provide. He almost tripped on Thomas when he heard Paige enter.

“Paige, sweetheart, welcome back!” His smiles were as sweet and warm as Paige’s, but she scowled.

“Hello, Father,” she said in a flat tone, though her eyes shined when Thomas came from behind him and meowed his welcome to her. “And hi to you, Thomas!” She knelt to pet his head and chatter with him, mimicking his meows.

Though her father winced, he offered Marta a greeting. “And Marta. It’s good to see you as well.” 

She bowed her head. “Good day, Mr. Larsen. How are you today?”

“Quite well, quite well. I was able to finish my duties in the town square early and decided to come home. It’s so rare I get to before dinner time.”

“That’s good.”

With her back turned from them, Paige tended to the dishes her father was in the middle of drying.

“Oh, thank you,” he chirped when he caught sight of her helping.

Paige nodded and chose to scratch behind Thomas’s ears.

“Is there something I can get you both?” he offered.

“No, thank you.” Paige set the last dish down; any harder and it would have cracked. “Me and Marta were just going to study in my room for a bit.” She tugged on Marta’s arm.

“Oh, alright.” He frowned. “But if you girls need anything, just let me know.”

“We will.” Paige pulled Marta into her room. Thomas trailed behind them and entered before Paige slammed the door.

There was only enough space for a small bed and a desk in the corner. Paige went to clear the bed of knitting needles and yarn before taking a seat. She beckoned Thomas into her lap and held him like a security blanket while Marta looked at the door, then back to Paige. “Is everything well between you and your father?”

Paige shook her head. “He thinks he can act like nothing happened, that we can still be the way we were before, but how can I trust him after…”

“You don’t have to say it,” Marta said when Paige choked on the words.

“Because you understand now, don’t you?”

Marta joined her hands together and stared at her boots.

Paige scooted so there was room for Marta on the bed. “Sit with me. You said there was something you wanted to discuss?”

The bed was so small that Marta’s knees jutted upwards as she sat. No matter how she adjusted, there was no comfort in the small space. “Yes, there was.”

“I’m listening.” 

“That day when you requested that I speak to Papa on your behalf,” she took a deep breath, “I lied. I hadn’t the courage to ask him.”

Paige said nothing.

“I tried. I really did, but…” Marta continued, “I don’t know why I couldn’t do it. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

Still, Paige was silent.

“Paige?”

“I was counting on you.” 

Thomas leapt from Paige’s hold. She gripped her apron so tightly her knuckles went white.

“I know.” Marta pretended not to notice.

“And you still couldn’t do it.”

“Should I leave?”

Though Paige’s jaw clenched, she shook her head. “You can stay. I’m not happy, but you were honest. That’s more than I can say for some people.” Her eyes narrowed at the door.

“I understand.”

The silence that followed would have lasted too long if Paige didn’t continue. “So what of you now that you’ve bled?” She said matter-of-factly, as if asking about the weather.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem anything is different.”

Paige tilted her head. “I’m surprised. I understand that Papa would not act as of now, but considering it’s you, I thought he might make his intentions known sooner.”

Marta shifted. “You speak as if you know his thoughts.”

“You need only listen to what people are saying.”

Marta shook her head, as if to rid herself of Paige’s statement. “They can’t say anything that I wouldn’t know by living with Papa.”

“They believe he will ask for your hand now that you’ve bled.”

“No….no, he wouldn’t. He’s...he’s like a father to me..” Marta’s voice trembled. Hunching over, she attempted to disappear into herself.

“And now you are a woman.”

“Papa is a holy man. God may grant him many wives, but he cannot favor any above another in holy matrimony.”

“But if he did marry, it would be you. Surely you’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“I see only my prophet and the word he brings.”

“But what if he did ask you? Would you say yes?”

“The thought never crossed my mind.”

“It might be good to start thinking about. You could gain a lot of power as the prophet’s wife, more so than any other woman here.”

“You really think so?” Marta dared to look back up. When she saw Paige’s expression was neutral, she sat as straight as the low ceiling allowed.

“Considering all you two have gone through together, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume. You might as well make the most of your situation, right?”

“I suppose.” Her shoulders sagged.

“It’s not a place I would like to be in, but for you, maybe you can use his favor for something.” Paige pursed her lips, and looked aside, as if searching for a runaway thought.

“I’m not so sure…”

“It might be all you have now. If nothing else, you could at least rest assured that he wouldn’t marry you off to just anyone.”

“Yeah…”

“You’re not without defense,” Paige went to open the door, “but still be careful when you get home, alright? That’s all I wanted to say.”

“Thank you.”

They bid each other good day and God’s blessing then. Marta let herself out of the room. When Marta went to bid Paige’s father a good day, she saw him hunched over at the table with his face in his hands. She left in a hurry.

Upon arriving home, Marta took no time to rest nor read. She went straight to the kitchen. Even knowing dinner would be done long before Knoth was due home, she continued. She nearly slammed pots and plates while moving them, only settling when taking her seat at the table and waited.

Her eyes moved back and forth between the clock and front door, but she never budged. Not even when Knoth arrived fifteen minutes early.

“Good evening, Papa,” She greeted him with a stiff formality and a neutral expression, while he offered a smile like any other night as he took his place across from her.

“Good evening, Marta. Glad to see you up and about again.”

“Yes, I’m feeling much better now,” was her curt reply.

“Ah, good, good. Your day of rest served you well, then?”

“It did.” Her tone remained subdued. “And how was your day?”

“Quite well, for I have exciting news.”

Marta closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before saying, “and what would that be?”

“It’s in regards to you.”

“Is it now?” She placed her hands on her lap, fingers laced.

“Yes,” He leaned forward. “I stopped by the schoolhouse before my usual duties. I discussed your progress with your teacher and we both agree that it would be best that you are graduated from your schooling when the week is through.”

“W-what?” Marta stared blankly.

“Does that not gladden you? I thought you would be happy to learn that you have proven yourself beyond your peers.”

She tensed. “I’m honored, but I took joy in attending school.”

“None say that you need cease your studies. It is just that you are above such simple lessons now. It is time you move onto grander things.”

“And what would that entail?”

“Patience is a virtue, my dear,” he chuckled. “All will be made known in due time.”

“Forgive me, Papa, but I do not understand what good comes out of me waiting to know my purpose. I have already bled later than most. I believe in that time the Lord has made my merits clear to you. I do not understand why—”

“There shall be a sign. This I promise you. Until then, keep to your faith, say your prayers, and the rewards shall be greater than a king’s treasure.”

“I shall, but—”

“We will discuss it no further tonight. No person is without their role in Temple Gate. You are no exception. The Lord may tarry in making it known to you, but that does not mean He is without a plan.”

Marta sighed, “Yes, Papa.”

“But for now, let us partake!” He motioned to the meal before them before bowing his head in prayer.

They said grace and ate heartily, saying no more on the matter.


	8. Chapter 8

Upon Marta’s graduation, the days passed slowly. She saw little of Knoth and even less of her peers. When the school bells chimed, Marta hurried to meet Paige at the barnhouse, sometimes arriving before her. The first few days, they would chat and study as before, but then Paige told her not to come.

“Oh,” Marta’s voice faltered. “Will you be busy with errands or chores? I would be happy to help you if you need assistance. Maybe I can help you get things done faster.”

Paige shook her head. “You don’t need to worry. It’s just some things that Father wants me to help with. I think he wants to spend time together or something.” She sighed heavily. “But it’s just one day.”

“Yes, that’s right. Just one day,” Marta echoed.

On that day, Marta went to the lake. Grey clouds covered the sun, but brought no rain with them. With no color to reflect, the water appeared dark like ink, and still like glass. Most retreated inside, but Seth waved from the beach. 

“Hi, Miss Martha!” He plopped a handful of mud on a pile.

“Hello, Seth.” Marta leaned in to inspect the structure. “What are you making there?”

“A castle!” He slapped another glop onto the pile nearing his height. He then pointed to the ring he dug around the mound. “And that’s the moat!” Around it, little twigs stood at attention. “And these are the soldiers that guard it from The Enemy!”

“And where would the enemy be?”

“I’m The Enemy!” Seth smiled brightly and tackled the castle. Any foundation not destroyed by the initial attack collapsed as Seth roared and cackled.

Marta stared all the while. “Oh my.”

“I’m gonna make a new one!” He grabbed another handful of mud and recreated the foundation. “You should help me! With you, we could make the tallest mud castle yet!” He stood on his tip toes and stretched his arms over his head.

“Otis won’t help you?”

“Nuh-uh. He tol’ me to stay put while he talks with Miss Paige.” He pointed to the dock where Otis and Paige sat. 

“Oh, is she picking up fish?”

Seth shrugged. “They just been talkin’.” He crouched down to dig deeper into the mud.

“I see. I’m going to go bid them good day.”

“Tell Otis I said hi!”

“I will.”

Marta left the shore to walk along the docks, her feet so light that they didn’t creak upon the wood. Even when she was close enough to hear Paige and Otis’s conversation, their backs stayed turned to her.

“What makes you think this will work?” Otis asked before Marta could approach.

“We have to try something.” Paige’s voice was serious and collected. 

“I know but, I wouldn’t put it past him to say no just to spite me.”

“No, you just need to do it right. He’ll believe you if he thinks you’re seeking redemption.”

“And if he doesn’t? What then? You really think he’s going to believe I turned over a new leaf just like that?”

“If you have a better idea, I’d love to hear it, but right now this is all I got. Are you going to help me or not?”

A silence lingered between them, before Otis uttered, “I don’t know…I want to, really, but...what if it doesn’t work?”

“And what if it does? Don’t you see? This will help us both.” Paige’s voice lifted. “He might finally leave you alone if you go through with it.”

Before Otis could reply, Marta cleared her throat.

Both turned to face her, their eyes wide. 

“Good day,” Marta stated when neither said anything.

Otis recovered first. “Hey, Marta. You need something?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Great! Let me get that for you!” He shot up and hurried down the dock. 

Paige already turned her back on them. 

“C’mon!” Otis called before Marta could speak out to her.

Marta caught up to Otis and walked alongside him. “So how have you been?”

“Same old, same old,” he answered too quickly. “How about you? Must be nice now that you don’t have to sit through those lectures.”

“I never minded them…”

Rather than comment, Otis opened the front door of his home. “The usual, right?”

“Oh, yes, that will do just fine…”

“Coming right up.” He disappeared into the house for a few moments before coming up with a bundle of her normal request: half a dozen sunfish, and two bluegill. “That all you need?”

“For now, I suppose…”

“Then I won’t keep you any longer. I don’t want you to fall behind. I’m sure Knoth keeps you busy nowadays.”

“It’s no trouble,” Marta assured. “With the spare time I finish my chores and errands quite early. I could stay a little longer. It’s been so long since you, me, and Paige got to spend time together.”

Otis sighed. “I’m afraid it’ll have to wait a little longer. Paige is going home soon and Dad’ll kill me if I don’t finish my chores.”

“Oh…” Marta frowned and looked to the ground.

“How about next week?” he suggested. “The three of us can hang out just like we used to.”

Marta managed a smile. “That sounds nice.”

“Great.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Great, see you then.” Otis shut the door rushed to the end of porch. He cleared his throat for Marta to follow. When she did, Otis rejoined Paige at the end of the dock. Neither appeared in a hurry to leave.

Nonetheless, Marta trailed just enough to hear the end of their conversation.


	9. Chapter 9

It wasn’t at the lake nor the farmhouse that Marta saw Paige and Otis again, but when she journeyed to the chapel for prayer.

Otis hounded one of the deacons while Paige sat in the nearest pew.

“I just want to talk to Knoth for five minutes. Is that really so much to ask?” Otis nearly yelled.

“Papa will not be seeing anyone,” he said. “If you need counsel, you are free to ask any of the other church officials, but the prophet is not to be interrupted while he is in meditation.”

“Tuesday it was prayer, Wednesday it was counsel, and now he’s meditating?! Is he trying to avoid me!?”

The deacon pointed an accusing finger at Otis. “You should seek the Lord in your prayers tonight and ask for patience. For it is a virtue you are severely lacking.” 

“I think I’ve shown plenty of patience! I’ve been coming here for nearly a week and he hasn’t so much as looked at me!”

When they devolved into bickering, Marta sat beside Paige. “What’s going on?”

“A private matter, I’m afraid.” Paige uttered, never tearing her eyes from the argument. 

“One so urgent that Papa’s attention is needed so soon?”

“Yes. He’s the only one who can give the final say, but he won’t talk to us. I think it’s because Otis is the one requesting his company…”

“Have you tried asking?”

“No, it has to be Otis.” Paige shook her head. “The prophet would be even less inclined to speak with me, so it’s best left to him.”

“He won’t get anywhere like that.”

“Do you have any better ideas?” If she looked at Marta, her eyeroll would have been visible.

Marta bit her lip before standing.

“Where are you going?” Paige asked.

“I’m going to talk to Papa.”

Paige’s voice softened. “You don’t have to.”

“You and Otis aren’t the only ones waiting for his answer.” She took a deep breath and started off.

“Good luck,” Paige called after her. 

Neither Otis nor the deacon took notice as she passed them.

The meditation halls stretched long and narrow. Only torches and candlelight guided her way to the room at the end. It was the largest and reserved for the prophet. Lights flickered and streamed from the crack underneath the door, shining on Marta’s boots while she knocked.

No answer.

She knocked a little louder.

Still nothing.

“Papa, it’s Marta,” She said at the third knock. “May I enter?”

This time the door opened and Knoth stepped aside for her. “Yes, child, come in.”

“Many thanks.” She ducked her head under the doorway.

The chamber reeked of the same wine and incense as his bedroom, though only half as potent. The stone walls stood bare aside from a large crucifix on one side. Candles of varying sizes scattered the ground, their light casting shadows. Marta and Knoth kneeled with enough space between them, before the cross. 

“What brings you here, child?”

“...It is of concern,” she admitted quietly.

“And what is it that concerns you?”

“You have been so absent as of late,” Marta replied. “The people are in want, in need even, of your guidance. We wish for the comfort of our prophet, but we are left grasping in the dark.”

“Then they are in that darkness by their own shortcomings. Though I am chosen to commune with God, I am nothing more than a vessel for His word. I may die tomorrow, but He would remain. The people cannot rely on me so wholly just to confirm what should already be the foundation by which they stand.”

“You speak as if we are lost in the wilderness still.” Though her voice quieted, it echoed off the walls.

“And we must remain as vigilant as we were then. We need not repeat the sin of sloth in the Degan Ranch.”

Marta’s eyes dimmed. “The ranch was of the wicked outside. It was inevitable that it met its destruction. Temple Gate is of God’s design, made on the backs and hands of our testament.” She looked at the calluses on her hands. “This is our sanctuary. I believe now is our time to prepare and flourish so that we may be of sound mind and body when The Enemy comes. If you would permit my boldness, I think the people need you in this time more than ever.” She stiffened as she waited for a response.

“You’ve been thinking a lot.” His tone was too even to read.

“My mind wanders often in these days,” she confessed. 

“Where does it wander?”

“I want a deeper understanding of our town. To know our purpose in the Lord’s battle...to know what my own role will be.”

“In due time, my dear.” He reached over so he could lightly pinch her hollow cheek. “You need only be patient.”

Marta sighed heavily. “Yes, Papa…” They sat in silence for a little longer, before Marta spoke. “Perhaps, we should go back outside?”

Knoth shook his head. “No, I’d rather stay here. Just a bit longer.”

“But there are those that wish to speak with you. Your testament needs you.”

“As long as it’s not Otis again. That boy has been pestering the deacons for nearly a week.”

“Do you not wish to speak with him?”

“Not until he learns patience and humility. He comes in here demanding an audience like a king when he has yet to gain the most basic understanding of our way.”

“Perhaps he is seeking guidance?” Marta attempted. “Whatever he seeks, it may be best to hear directly from you.”

“He hasn’t spoken with you about it?”

“I only know that he arrived here with Paige and she claims it a private matter.”

“He came here with Paige now, did he?” He stood at last. “Perhaps it would be best to see what they want.” 

He held out a hand to help Marta up, which she took. Even when she stood, he kept his hold. 

As they walked down the hall, they could hear the shouting. 

Knoth picked up his pace, nearly tugging Marta along. 

When they entered the main hall, he shouted to make his presence known. “What in God’s name is going on in here!?”

Both fell silent. They straightened themselves and sought Knoth’s attention, the deacon gaining it first.

“Papa, this insolent—”

Knoth let go of Marta’s hand and held his up to silence him. “Never you mind that. I’ll take it from here.”

“But—”

“You are dismissed.”

In a huff, he departed. Paige took his place and stood beside Otis so she could hold his hand. Their gazes met for only a moment before Otis bowed his head in Knoth’s presence.

“Forgive me, sir. I had hoped you wouldn’t see that.”

“But I did,” he snapped. “So you best tell me what you caused such a scene for.”

“Yes, of course, but first I would like to thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I understand you are a busy man, so I won’t take up too much of your time.”

“I would hope not.” Knoth rubbed his temple. “Just let me know what you want.”

Otis glanced at Marta, then back to Knoth. “Sir...I thought maybe we could discuss this matter in private?”

“What you could say in front of me, you could say in front of her. Now out with it.”

Taking a deep breath, Otis stood straight and tall. “I have come to ask for your blessing that I may take Paige’s hand in marriage.”

Both Knoth and Marta’s jaws dropped. They sought each other for an explanation, but when neither had one, Knoth gave his answer. “No, it can’t be done. You two would not suit.”

“Why not? Just the other day you were saying it was time I take my place in Temple Gate and Paige is a woman fit to bear children. What more is needed?”

“Paige was brought up to be a farmer’s wife. You are working with the fishers. You two would not flourish with your talents clashing as they are.”

“There is no reason that we cannot coexist. As long as we can set up a pen, then her livestock can travel with her wherever we choose to live.”

Knoth scoffed, “and how would you go about supporting a wife and starting a family? You haven’t a home of your own and only just started your craft. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had yet to speak to her father about this.”

“I have and he thinks it’s a fine idea. As for a home, I hoped I could take the house that Fisherman Jones left behind a few months prior. It’s vacant and I can fix it up to be suitable for a wife and children. There’s room in the yard to make a coop for Paige’s chickens. Then her father will have room of his own for more livestock, which will benefit Temple Gate.”

Knoth raised an eyebrow. “And your own parents?”

His free hand clenched into a fist. “You know as well as I do that they just want me out of the house.”

Next, Knoth shot a glare at Paige. “And what of you?” he asked, making her flinch. “Do you take to this young man?”

Though she was unable to look Knoth in the eye, Paige nodded. “I do.”

“You answer with little conviction.” He stepped forward, snarling. “Have you been coerced into this agreement against your will?”

Paige shifted to partially stand behind Otis, and clung to his arm.

“Answer, child.” He loomed, casting a shadow over them. “This is your future we are talking about.”

When Otis gave her hand a squeeze, Paige lifted her head. “This is of my own free will.” 

Knoth turned his back to them. “Nonetheless, this match is unsuitable. Paige is better as a farmer’s wife. It’s how she was brought up. Come spring, I shall find her a suitable husband, but it shan't be you.”

“Surely you can make an exception. We can pursue our talents and have children together as well as we can with anyone. Why should it matter whether we choose each other or someone else?” Otis’s tapping foot punctuated his question.

Knoth shook his head. “You could request many maids in Temple Gate, yet you ask for one ill-fitting of you. I should have expected this much.”

“Papa,” Marta’s voice was gently chiding. “Must you be so harsh with them? I understand your frustration, but I do believe Otis is trying to find his place among our people.”

“And I believe you too kind,” Knoth said. “The boy has been as Doubting Thomas from the start. This request is not enough for me to believe he has seen our way. He is not yet ready to take a wife.”

“But Thomas was still one of God’s disciples, just as Otis is still one of our flock. He only needs a chance to prove himself.”

Initially, Knoth opened his mouth to argue, but stopped himself. His eye shone as he grinned. “My dear, I think that’s a fine idea.” He turned his attention back to Otis. “Perhaps I have been unfair towards you. For does the shepherd not seek out the one lost lamb over the ninety-nine already accounted for? If you are seeking redemption, who am I to deny you that? That is what you want, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, after swallowing a lump in his throat, attempting to keep his expression even.

“Wonderful!” He clapped a hand on Otis’s shoulder. “Then you shall be baptized this coming Sunday in the Lord’s name. It shall be a declaration of newfound faith, and a sign of your joining our flock. Then, we can discuss a possible marriage.”

Otis closed his eyes and breathed through his nose before replying, “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Good, good,” Knoth patted his shoulder before letting go. “I pray that you continue this path, but for now you must excuse me. There is much I must attend to, but we will speak again soon. Both of you give your families my regards.” He turned to leave.

Marta watched as Paige tugged on Otis’s hand for them to depart. They hurried out of the chapel. Before she could follow, Knoth called on her to spend the rest of the day in meditation together.


	10. Chapter 10

That morning, Marta joined the Walsh family to chapel. She walked alongside Otis while Seth held his mother’s hand. He chattered excitedly about this and that, but his mother never gave him more than a muttered “uh-huh” through whiskey-soaked breath, all as Otis’s father towered over them, glaring at Seth.

The church had not been so crowded since one of the testament had taken more than his share of rations. He claimed it only fair as there were five children between him and his wife, and the eldest had fallen ill. When he accused Knoth of taking excess, Knoth forced him to repent before his people. He was to remain outside the church for two days and bear a sign reading, “Glutton.” 

None were to speak nor look at him and no one questioned the food distribution again.

Then, there was dread as people entered the chapel, but now they mingled excitedly with each other. Several even congratulated the Walsh family as they claimed one of the furthest back pews.

A few minutes passed and Knoth signaled everyone to rise for the opening hymn.

Women attempted higher notes than the hymnals dictated, while most of the men grumbled the lower notes. A few competent singers stood out to carry the rest and keep them in time to the piano which often fell out of tune. Some people raised their hands, as if reaching out to touch their Lord and Savior, crying out their hallelujahs. 

After the final note, the congregation turned to greet one another, muttering, “Peace be with you,” until Knoth signaled for all to be seated for the morning sermon. He spoke of community, the importance of vigilance and devotion, and of course, The Enemy.

“Now, if we are to be ready to fight The Enemy, we must act as one. Temple Gate is made not by one man’s merits alone, but by the faithful coming together as an army for the Lord!” Knoth waited for the people’s cheers to quiet before continuing. “For one soldier may seem as insignificant as a grain of sand, but when brought together, they create an expanse that stretches across the sea.” He stepped down from the pulpit to walk the aisle amongst his flock. “One grain could be enough to tip the scale, thus all must be ready, but there are those who have lived among us and failed to take up arms to fight The Enemy!” 

The congregation shook their heads and murmured their disapproval.

“But that shall be no more.” He stopped at the pew where Otis sat. “For one of our own has decided to make known his walk with God.” 

A thunderous applause echoed off the chapel walls as Knoth held out his hand for Otis. “Come, child.”

Otis did not take his hand, but he stood and followed Knoth to the front.

Much of the assembly offered congratulations and blessings as he walked by, but Otis held his head high enough to avoid their gazes. 

“Thank you for coming forward today,” Knoth said when they stood before the congregation. “For you are an inspiration to your town that there are none too lost to be saved. They need only the humility to admit their sins and give Him the yoke to carry their heavy burden.” He placed a hand on Otis’s shoulder. “That is what you want, is it not?”

“It is, sir,” he replied evenly.

“Then I ask that you kneel in the presence of the Lord.”

Though he sighed, Otis did as he was told.

“Do you accept the Lord as your Almighty Savior?”

“I do.”

“Then I ask that you admit your sins.”

Otis bowed his head in prayer, only for Knoth to tsk and shake his head.

“The Lord does not have ears for simple sinners,” Knoth said.

Otis opened his eyes to glance up. “What? You said—”

“You have turned your back on God since Temple Gate’s very founding. Though He set His word before you and offered His guidance, you made yourself blind to Him. Do you think He will hear you now?”

“But I thought...what do you mean?”

“As God’s holy man, I will be the one to hear your sins and see that you are saved. For my will is His will.” Though his tone was soothing, Otis stiffened.

“...What do you want me to say?” 

“The Lord has blessed you with great resolve,” Knoth circled Otis as he spoke. “Greater than most, yet you have thrown it away on an empty rebellion! Your merit comes with the conceit that you are beyond God’s redemption and for that you shall burn in the fire everlasting if you do not repent right now! Cast aside the deadly sin of pride and take your place among your people! Confess your faith!”

“I…” Otis lowered his head to escape Knoth’s eye, but before he could speak further, Knoth gripped his hair so he could crane Otis’s neck to look up at him. 

“You will not turn your eyes from salvation this time. I need to see you’re truthful as you confess.” Though Otis tried to wriggle free, Knoth tightened his hold. “Say it.”

“I confess my faith,” Otis muttered, only loud enough for Knoth to hear.

“Louder!” Knoth snapped. “Loud enough for your people to hear!”

“I confess my faith,” he repeated.

“Louder.”

“Knoth…”

“Do you not wish to be saved?” Knoth’s voice was almost sweet as he loosened his grip just enough so Otis could catch sight of Paige in one of the front pews.

“I do wish for salvation. It’s just…”

“Just what? What is holding you back, boy? There is no shame in giving your life to God. Your people will not judge you.” He looked to his congregation. “Isn’t that right?”

They cheered for Otis’s salvation, crying out their amens. 

“See? Your people wish for your redemption. You need only confess before them and this will all be over.”

“You already know what’s in my heart. Must you make me confess before everyone like this?”

“Do you hear that, everyone?” Knoth let him go to face his flock. “This boy thinks himself above God’s good graces!” He pointed at Otis. “Jesus Christ did not die on the cross for us to deny Him! This child speaks as The Enemy, clouded with delusions of grandeur that he may be saved by his own merits! For this is how the enemy speaks! It plants a seed of doubt and questioning in you that grows until it becomes gnarled branches in our path with God! This is how you stray from your walk, and this is what causes man’s undoing, and this is why we must remain vigilant! For if such evil is at our doorstep, in our good town, then what are we to do!?” 

The people shouted in accord and Knoth sneered at Otis.

“Do we have room for this in Temple Gate!? For this is a holy place and we have no place for The Enemy’s lies and snares! Such ungratefulness for our God’s sacrifice can only come from a wicked heart and thus—”

“Papa, please!” 

Knoth’s eye widened as Otis cried out. They stared at each other for a moment, before Knoth’s expression of shock morphed into a smile. “Yes, my child?”

Once again, Otis lowered his head. “I...I know I do not deserve your patience. I have been stubborn and proud, and it has brought me nothing but grief. I want to leave that sin behind me and find my place in Temple Gate. Please…I beg of you...if you can have pity on me just this once, I declare my faith for all to see.”

A grin replaced Knoth’s sneer as he took the dish of water from the deacon at the side. “I hereby baptize you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

“Amen,” the congregation echoed.


	11. Chapter 11

Preparations took up the remainder of the month. The seamstresses made up a white dress for Paige. Otis worked on repairing the old house. Friends and neighbors offered blessings and prepared their gifts for the occasion.

On the first day of winter, the wedding took place, when the air was cold and still, yet the sky the clearest it had been in months.

The chapel bustled as the testament filed in. Everyone wore their finest attire, lacy gowns and pressed shirts. Women gushed about how beautiful Paige would look in her dress. The men chuckled and reminisced about their own weddings, but Paige and Marta heard none of it from the room in the hall that served as a makeshift dressing area.

Clad in white, Paige sat in front of a mirror. She gathered up her skirt that was mostly plain, aside from a lace trim, so she could tie up her little white boots, ignoring the itchy material.

Meanwhile, Marta ran a brush through Paige’s hair over and over again. It went through with ease each time.

“How do you get your hair so soft?” she asked at one point.

“Hm?” Paige smoothed out the skirt and straightened her posture. “Oh, my hair?” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just never have much trouble with it, except it gets greasy if I don’t wash it.”

“I see…” Marta said nothing on how her own hair would snarl and grease no matter what she tried. 

“I want two braids,” Paige said. “Would you mind getting one while I get the other? I can take care of the rest.”

“Certainly.” Marta focused on gathering her hair into a tight braid, her brow furrowing when it slipped from her oversized fingers. A silence followed that Paige dwelled in until Marta broke it. “I was unaware that you and Otis harbored such feelings for one another.”

“We saw fit to keep silent until receiving Papa’s blessing,” Paige answered.

Marta tied off the end of the braid in a ribbon before replying, “Yes, I suppose it would have been improper for me to know before the prophet...” She murmured.

“Thank you for understanding,” Paige said as she rolled the braids into little buns.

“Of course.”

“Would you mind getting the veil?”

Marta fetched it from the table behind them. She waited for Paige to rise before setting it upon her head. There was enough material that it trailed down to Paige’s waist.

“How do I look?” 

With her short stature, rosy cheeks, and petticoats, she looked like a doll.

“You look nice,” Marta said through a forced smile.

Paige did not return the favor. “Something’s missing.”

Looking around the room, Marta spotted the bouquet of desert wildflowers on the table. She fetched and handed them to Paige. 

“Oh yes, that’s it. Thank you.” Paige took the flowers and adjusted herself so she stood straight and proper. “Now I’m ready.”

“Are you nervous?”

Paige shook her head. “Not at all.”

“Even though everything will change after today?”

“I believe that with this change will come great joy.” Paige’s smile vanished when there came a knocking at the door.

“Sweetheart, are you ready?” Her father asked. “We’ll be starting in five minutes.”

Paige winced. “Yes, Father. I’ll be right out.”

“God bless, Paige. May your marriage bring you much joy and prosperity,” Marta said.

“And God bless to you, Marta.”

When Paige lowered her head, Marta left to enter the main chambers, settling on one of the last open spaces in the back pew.

Knoth stood at the altar, dressed in his finest robes. He offered Marta a quick grin and she nodded in acknowledgment. 

At his side stood Otis. His unruly hair had been tamed for the occasion and he fidgeted in the pressed suit. He constantly adjusted and readjusted the collar until Knoth said something to make him stop and stand straight.

Then came the familiar tune of the opening hymn.

Marta stood with the congregation. Everyone looked to the doorway where Paige entered. She held her father’s arm as he walked her down the aisle. Neither of them smiled, though Paige nodded her regards to those at the ends of the pew who congratulated her as she passed. They reached the end, and it was with great reluctance that he released Paige. He shook hands with Otis, then took his seat in the front pew.

Paige joined Otis’s side to wait for the hymnal’s end.

At the final note, Knoth made the sign of the cross. 

“Grant we pray, almighty God, that these your servants now be joined by the Sacrament of Matrimony, may grow in the faith they profess and enrich Your Church with faithful offspring. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, Your son, who lives and reigns with You in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.”

“Amen,” the congregation echoed as they took their seats.

“I now ask that you both kneel in the presence of our Lord,” Knoth told Paige and Otis.

When they did, Knoth recited the opening prayers and readings. He flipped back and forth between passages of the gospel, pausing only to allow hymns from the congregation throughout. Neither Paige nor Otis looked up until Knoth asked that they rise to declare their consent and vows.

“Otis Walsh and Paige Larsen, have you come here to enter into Marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?” 

“I have.” 

“I have.”

“Are you prepared, as you follow the path of Marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?”

“I am,” they said in turn once more.

“And are you prepared to accept children lovingly from God and to bring them up according to the law of Christ and his Church?”

“I am.” 

“I am,” Otis answered after a long pause and with a shaking voice, to which Paige shot him a look.

Nodding, Knoth continued, “Since it is your intention to enter the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join hands.” When they did so, he continued. “Paige Larsen, do you take this man to be your husband? Do you promise to be faithful to him in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love him and to honor him all the days of your life?”

“I do.” 

Knoth looked to Otis next, “Otis Walsh, do you take this woman to be your wife? Do you promise to be faithful to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and to honor her all the days of your life?”

Otis opened his mouth, but choked on the answer. “I…”

Everyone waited in the silence, leaning forward in their seats. When no response came, scattered whispers rose throughout, until Paige spoke over them.

“Otis? Is everything alright?” Though her voice was sweet, her expression was serious. Only when she squeezed his hand did he reply.

“I…I do,” he choked out, just loud enough for Knoth to hear.

“Then I ask that we receive the rings…”

Everyone looked to the end of the aisle, but there was no one.

Knoth cleared his throat and raised his voice. “I ask that we receive the rings.”

The pitter patter of little feet could be heard as Seth hurried down the aisle, balancing the rings on a small cushion. His bowtie was askew and strands of hair escaped his slicked back style. When he reached the altar, he stood on his tip toes and held out the cushion for Otis.

“Here you go!”

“Thanks, Seth.” Otis’s voice strained as he set a hand on Seth’s head. He left it there for a moment before taking the rings. He turned to face Paige again, but Seth lingered and tugged on Otis’s coat.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Otis said through watering eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Swallowing a lump in his throat, Otis sent Seth off to toddle back to his mother. 

Knoth took the rings to bless them and sprinkle them in holy water before handing them to Paige and Otis. 

Otis took Paige’s hand and placed the ring on her finger. “Paige Larsen,” He took a deep breath, “receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

Paige placed her ring on his finger. She spoke clearly and without hesitation. “Otis Walsh, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

Upon the exchange, Knoth made his final statement. “Thus in the Lord’s name, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

With trembling hands, Otis lifted the veil from Paige’s face. Her expression remained neutral, even when Otis leaned forward to plant a quick, chaste kiss on her cheek.

Though Knoth raised an eyebrow, the rest of the congregation applauded before bowing their heads for the closing prayer.

Afterwards, the assembly was allowed to greet the couple.

Women huddled around to pinch Paige’s cheeks and shower her in compliments. 

“What a lovely bride!”

“You’re going to make a wonderful wife!”

Paige graciously accepted each compliment without skipping a beat, her voice pleasant and sweet.

Meanwhile, Otis listened to unwarranted advice from the testament’s men about keeping a wife’s interest, and endured hearty slaps on the back that would later bruise.

Marta, however, kept to handshakes and “God bless,” though she did hold Paige’s hand a little longer than the others. Then she went to shake Otis’s hand. It was clammy and cold.


	12. Chapter 12

Another month passed when Marta saw Paige and Otis outside of mass.

It was not uncommon for Knoth to visit newlyweds within such time to offer counsel. Marta seldom accompanied him on these visits, but the week before, he had extended the invitation, which she gladly accepted. Together, they travelled to the lake. Marta brought a dessert along while Knoth arrived empty-handed.

Paige and Otis lived in the smallest home at the end of the docks, edging the wilderness. A rickety gate circled the yard where a few of Paige’s chickens wandered, although most of them retired to their coops as the sun set.

A mixture of Otis’s fishing supplies and Seth’s toys littered the front yard, which Marta nearly stepped on.

Otis sat on the porch, cleaning his catch of the day, while Seth rammed his wooden toys together. He mimicked crashing sounds on impact, only looking up when Knoth cast a shadow over him.

“Howdy, Papa!” Seth shot up and waved at Knoth.

Knoth chuckled. “Hello, Seth. What have you got there?”

“These are my new toys!” Seth presented the battered horses. “Their names are Jorgie and Harry! They’re fightin' over who gets the pot of gold!”

“This gold here?” Knoth asked of an ear of corn at Seth’s feet.

As Seth gasped, Otis dropped the fish bones and ran to them. “Seth,” He placed his hands on Seth’s shoulders and took a step back. “What did I tell you about pestering Kno...Papa?”

Seth kicked at the dirt. “That he’s a busy man and not to bother ‘im too much.”

“That’s right.” Keeping his hold on Seth, Otis bowed his head. “My apologies. You don’t need to worry about humoring him.”

“Nonsense, he’s not bothering me in the least,” Knoth assured.

Seth craned his neck to look up at Otis. “See, I told you!”

“Yes, but—”

Seth broke free and tugged on Knoth’s hand to lead him around the yard and point out other toys scattered on the ground. Each came with an elaborate backstory.

Otis turned to Marta. “Good to see you,” he said through a sigh.

“Thank you. I’m glad I could come. Much time has passed,” Marta said.

“Too much. I don’t remember the last time I saw someone my age. It’s either Paige and Seth or those crusty old fishermen.”

“Are the fishers really so bad?”

Otis shuddered. “They made me noodle.”

“What’s that?”

He held up a bandaged hand. “You don’t want to know.”

“Is that going to be okay?” 

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Otis then looked at the dessert. “You wanna set that down?”

“Oh, yes, that would be nice.”

“Then you can go ahead inside. Paige is working on dinner right now. I’m sure she’d like to say hi before we all sit down.”

“Oh, okay.” Marta started for the house. She stopped, waiting for Otis to follow, but he remained on the porch, never looking away from Seth and Knoth. He didn’t hear her sigh as she opened the front door.

Thomas greeted her first. He rubbed against her legs, meowing loudly.

“Hello, Thomas,” Marta said.

He plopped in front of her and meowed louder.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have any food.” 

Narrowing his eyes, Thomas got up and trotted off.

Marta followed him into the kitchen and set down the dessert. There, Paige rearranged the table settings while waiting on the stove. She only noticed Marta when Thomas meowed.

“Oh!” Paige flinched. “I didn’t know you were joining us tonight.”

“...Is that a problem?”

“Not at all.” Paige hopped on a stool to reach a spice on the top shelf. “I’m actually relieved you’re here. It means Papa can be trusted to remain decent.”

“Oh...right…” Marta’s eyes drifted to the floor.

“Could I bother you to help me finish dinner?” Paige asked. “I had hoped to be done by now, but Seth was causing a ruckus.”

“Yes, I saw him playing in the yard.” Marta joined Paige in chopping vegetables. “Are you two watching him for the day?”

Paige huffed. “He’s living with us. Otis thought it would be best. I didn’t think his parents would actually agree to it.”

“You don’t seem too happy with this arrangement.”

“That child is a menace. I don’t know how Otis could keep up with him and not lose his cool.”

“Are children really so difficult?”

“They are when they have Seth’s energy,” Paige slammed the salad bowl onto the table. Only after taking a deep breath did she settle and ask about Marta.

“No better nor worse than before. Things are the same,” Marta answered.

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps...I’m not so sure.”

“You should enjoy it while you can,” Paige said. “A day will come when you wish things were still simple and routine. Don’t take it for granted.”

The door opened before Marta could answer. 

“We best hurry,” Paige said in a hushed tone.

They finished preparing dinner while Seth’s rambling filled the house. Occasionally Knoth or Otis would make a comment over Seth. Minutes later, the table was set and food divided.

Paige went into the living room to interrupt the conversation. “Dinner is ready!”

“Oh boy, food!” Seth shot to his feet and sprinted to the kitchen.

“C’mon!” Paige hurried past Knoth and took Otis by his arm, “I made your favorite fish fry tonight!” She dragged him along without a word to Knoth.

“Oh, thank you,” Otis muttered as he took his seat between Paige and Seth.

Trailing behind, Knoth joined Marta’s side, motioning for her to sit before taking the seat beside her.

“Otis, lead us in prayer tonight,” Knoth said.

“Oh...sure.”

Everyone joined hands and bowed their heads.

“Our Father who art in Heaven. I ask that You bless this meal set before us. I thank You for allowing us the good fortune to have food on our table and ask that You continue to bless us. Amen.”

“Amen.”

They all started their dinner, except for Otis, who worked on cutting Seth’s portion into bite-sized pieces.

“This is very good,” Knoth said. “Thank you, Paige.”

Paige forced a smile. “Thank you kindly, Papa,” she said sweetly, though she immediately turned her gaze to her plate, picking pieces of meat from her salad.

“You’re a lucky man, Otis,” Knoth commented. “Your woman makes a fine meal and keeps a good home from the looks of it.”

Though small, the space was plenty clean with the exception of Seth’s toys. Paige brought along the embroidery and afghans from the Larsen Farm to make the new home just as cozy.

“Yes, she’s really made this place feel like a home,” Otis said.

“It’s just a shame it’s so little. There will need to be more room when you start having children.”

Otis winced. “Isn’t it a bit soon to be thinking about that? We’re just settling in, and we can always add onto the house if need be.”

Knoth didn’t skip a beat. “You can never think too soon on spreading your family seed. God very well could bless your wife with a fertile womb. You must be prepared.”

“Is this really good table conversation?” Otis blurted out loud enough for the others to look up and stare. He swallowed a lump in his throat before continuing. “There are women and children here…”

“What does that matter?” Knoth asked easily. “This is all only normal now that you’re a married man.”

Seth tugged on Otis’s sleeve. “If you and Paige had a baby, that'd make me an uncle, right?”

Otis was about to respond, but cut short when Paige placed her hand atop his, her tone icy. “We have been trying for a child, but you must understand that it is still too soon to know.”

“That is true,” Knoth conceded. “I suppose it is too early to tell if you are with Otis’s child.” Though he maintained eye contact with Paige, his hand wandered to Marta’s upper leg underneath the table. “When that time comes, I trust you will bear your husband many fine children.” His expression didn’t change as his hand moved slightly higher.

Marta attempted to cross her legs to escape his hold, but Knoth applied enough pressure to keep her leg down.

“You will be the first to know,” Paige said as she returned to her meal, breaking the eye contact.

Knoth’s hand remained there the rest of dinner.

At several points, Marta attempted to meet Paige’s gaze, but Paige never looked up except to speak with Otis. It wasn’t until Paige went to clear the table that Marta was able to escape Knoth’s hold and help with the dishes. 

Once they finished, Paige hurried back to Otis’s side and latched herself onto his arm while seeing Knoth and Marta out. But before they said their good nights, Paige cried out.

“Oh no, the pen!”

The rickety gate had cracked open just enough for the chickens to roam free. Most of them headed for the docks, but several sat on the porch. A few even wandered all the way to the beach.

“Seth!” Paige spun around and glared him down. “Did you leave the gate open again!? How many times have we told you to close and lock it when you’re done?!”

“It’s okay! I’ll go get’em!” Seth picked up a stick and bolted to the docks. 

Sighing, Otis followed.

“Would you mind getting the ones at the beach?” Paige asked Marta.

“Sure…” Marta walked to the shoreline. The chickens pecked at the ground, clucking when they only got a beakful of sand. “Come on,” Marta grumbled. 

When one went the proper direction, the other branched another way. Marta would chase the errant chicken back to the path only for the companion to wander astray. After a few minutes, she snatched one. Adjusting, Marta held onto the chicken the way she had seen Paige do it.

In Paige’s arms, the chicken would relax and coo, but with Marta it wriggled and clawed. Marta tightened her grip enough to steady it. When the chicken stilled, Marta looked up. Paige and Otis had already gathered their chickens and rejoined each other’s side. They seemed to speak almost pleasantly to one another with Knoth out of earshot. 

After swallowing a lump in her throat, Marta journeyed forward, holding strong to the chicken.

Paige shrieked.

“What did you do to Georgette?!”

“Huh...what do you…?” Marta looked down and saw the chicken hung limp in her arms, its head rolled back and beak hanging open. She tossed it away and stepped back.

“What’s going on?” Otis turned and froze when he saw the dead chicken.

“What is it?” Seth trailed behind. He gasped at the scene. “Wow! Is it dead? I wanna touch it!” He toddled over, stick in hand, but Otis pulled him back.

“What did you do?” Paige asked, her fists clenched.

“I didn’t mean to,” Marta stepped back. “I...I must have held too tight. It was an accident. I swear.”

“How do you accidentally kill Georgette?!”

“Paige.” Otis gave her a serious look. “Not now.”

“Why not!? Georgette is—” She cut short when she heard Knoth’s footsteps approaching and scurried to join Otis.

Passing Paige by, Knoth stared at the dead chicken at Marta’s feet. He said nothing. Nonetheless, Marta’s eyes watered.

“I-I’m sorry,” Marta choked out. “I didn’t mean to. I swear to you that this was an accident. I would never commit such a sin on purpose. You know I wouldn’t. I—”

Still, his expression remained the same. Even as he outstretched his arms towards her. “Come, child.”

Marta stepped forward at first, but froze. She looked into Knoth’s eye for only a moment before she turned her back to him. None saw the tears that escaped.


	13. Chapter 13

The sun shone too brightly through the bedroom window. Marta squinted and barely fought the urge to roll over and sleep longer. Judging by the light, Knoth would be at the chapel, so she took her time getting dressed before trudging downstairs.

However, when she walked into the kitchen, she found Knoth standing by the table with a full breakfast spread for them both, freshly cooked.

“Good morning,” he greeted.

Despite his smile, Marta blurted out, “I’m so sorry!” and bowed her head. “I didn’t mean to sleep in. It’s just—”

“You needn’t apologize when there is nothing to forgive.” He motioned to the seat across from him. “Please, sit. Dine with me.”

“Yes, Papa.”

When she went to sit down, Knoth hurried over to pull her chair out.

“Thank you,” she muttered.

He then led them in a quick blessing, and they ate well. Their exchanges remained light and insignificant, until Knoth’s tone became serious.

“Join me outside,” he said when they cleared their plates. “There’s something I wish to discuss with you.”

“Yes, Papa,” Her heart jumped as she stood to follow him. They settled upon a bench on the porch positioned to overlook Temple Gate. 

“The time has come that I share God’s plan with you,” he said.

Marta’s stomach dropped. “Yes?”

He continued to stare out at the town. “Tell me what it is you see.”

Buildings stood tall and sturdy, but the surrounding cliffs dwarfed them. The people amongst the town appeared even smaller, as dolls Marta could hold in her hand. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky to block the high sun.

“I see a town blessed by God,” Marta replied, “Impossible though it may be, we have prospered in the wilderness and made an oasis in the midst of this wicked world.”

“Would you believe there are those who doubt what we have built?” 

“Doubt is a human err, but it is not unnatural,” Marta said. “Time will see their doubts are quelled when they witness what faith can bring.”

“What you say is true, but time is not something that we can afford in this crucial hour.”

“And why do you say that?”

“Doubt is the seed of The Enemy. It grows into a weed that tangles itself into the Lord’s soil. Though it may start small, it can spread and overtake the entire bed, choking the growth and fertile soil. Thus the weeds must be pulled from the root so as to let the garden flourish.”

“You believe that there are those who will snare our good town if not removed?”

Knoth nodded. “I do.”

“Then what should be done?”

“That is where you come in.” He turned from the view to look at her. “I need someone to enforce our way. Someone strong of both body and spirit.”

Marta stared back. “I don’t understand. What is it that you are asking of me?”

“You know better than most that the Lord does not always work in merciful ways,” he started. “For He brought down His plagues upon the Egyptians when the Pharaoh would not let our people go. He turned the river into blood, destroyed their crops, snuffed out their sunlight, and took their very young from them, and it was through these plagues that they knew His awesome power and believed.” He trailed off for a moment before continuing. “God has chosen you to make known that great power and judgment.”

Marta waited for Knoth to continue. When he didn’t, her eyes widened. “Papa...you must forgive my boldness, but I believe you are mistaken. Why would I be chosen as God’s vessel for wrath? There are able-bodied men of our testament who would take great honor at such a duty. My place is elsewhere.”

“That’s exactly what I thought at first. For you are so young and soft-hearted that I could not envision you taking arms against The Enemy. I believed that I had misunderstood God’s intent and purpose for you. Thus I pleaded with Him to grant me a sign. He gave me no basis of what I must search for, but I watched and waited, and last night I finally understood. You think that you killed in vain when in truth it was a sacrifice in our Lord’s name.”

Marta shook her head. “What I did was an accident.”

“No, it wasn’t.” His eye gleamed. “It was a sign, evidence of a strength within you so great that you cannot even begin to imagine it.”

She shook her head faster and shut her eyes. “No, you’re wrong. You have mistaken my duty with someone else’s.”

“And when have I ever been wrong?” he challenged. “When we faced near ruin in the wilderness, we survived. God provided for us and through our faith and resolve and He provides for us now. If you need proof you need only look around you,” he motioned out to the view. “For if you ask the world, they will say our town is an impossible one, but here Temple Gate stands, built on faith and in our Lord’s name. It is a town that you have lived to see because you stayed on when others fled. Even when you were so young and scared, you held to your faith and showed the strength of ten men. That is why God has chosen you. Only your faith and spirit can rise to this task.”

Still, Marta hesitated. “...I simply cannot imagine it. I want to believe in what you say, yet…” Her gaze fell to the ground.

“In time you will,” Knoth said. “I understand I am asking much of you. Sometimes God’s path can be frightening, but you will not have to endure it alone. For God will not abandon you in your confusion.” He placed a hand on her knee and left it there. “And I shall be with you during this time. We will find God’s way together.”


	14. Chapter 14

The slaughterhouse served as a border between the town and the mines. Its stench travelled with the wind, polluting the path Marta and Knoth walked along. It started off faintly, only a tickle of the nose, but grew strong enough to make them cough as they drew close. 

No one ever spoke of the smell. Even when forced to bring their aging livestock or retrieve their meat, they held their tongues through the errand. Only people walking the trail coughed and heaved at the stink.

Upon arriving, Knoth talked with the owner, a lean man with a permanent scowl. They spoke in tones too low for Marta to discern, though she caught the owner staring at her several times through the conversation.

Knoth then signaled for Marta to follow them to the entrance. They waited as the owner dragged the heavy door open before leaving them. 

Whether it was the screeching metal of the door or the increasingly potent smell that made Marta wince, she couldn’t say.

Animal carcasses hung like laundry out to dry, hooks piercing their ankles. Most of them had been skinned. Organs spilled out and puddles of blood pooled beneath them. The stench made Marta wretch, hunching over as she heaved. Knoth held his hand to her back.

“Let it all out, dear. You’ll be used to it soon. Just endure a little longer.” He remained at her side until she rose. “There, that wasn’t so bad was it?”

“Why have you brought me here?” Marta asked.

“We’re going to help one of our men with his livestock,” Knoth answered, and led her further into the slaughterhouse. 

“How long will it take?”

“That depends on you, my dear.”

Marta then heard a bleat. She almost mistook it for a creak in the wood, but the deeper they went, the louder it became until they arrived at the source.

Tucked away in a corner, aside from the meat, a goat stood. Its fur had gone thin and mangy. Chunks of it had fallen off, leaving bald patches throughout. The ribs poked through the skin and it wheezed with every breath. Nonetheless, it would tug at the rope tied to the stake in the ground.

“What’s wrong with it?” Marta asked. Breathing came easier.

“The thing is old and won’t make milk anymore. Its purpose is through. It must be slain, should it continue in this state of wretchedness.” 

“Understandable.”

Knoth stared at her wordlessly.

“Do you mean me to…?” Her eyes widened.

“Yes, I do.”

“But, I have no way of harming this creature.”

“That is why I want to give you this.” From his robes, Knoth pulled out the knife that robbed his eye. 

Marta gasped. “Papa, is that…?”

“The very same.” His tone was hushed as he held out the handle towards her. “It’s yours now.”

“I can’t.” Marta shook her head. “This blade means too much.”

“That is precisely why I want you to have it.” He took her hand and forced the blade into her grasp. “For there is none other I can trust as intimately as you, so please, use this to make the first cut.”

Unable to find the words, Marta bowed her head before she turned to face the goat. The fog in its eyes blinded it, but it cried out when she stepped forward. 

Marta’s fingers had to curl too tightly to keep ahold of the knife. The goat continued whining.

“Why do you hesitate?” Knoth asked. “You’ve taken life before.”

“Never intentionally.”

“With or without intention, the creature was slain by your hand. It was not by accident. God was revealing your purpose to you and it is time that you rise to face His will.”

“Yes, but...to spill blood is a mortal sin. Shouldn’t it be left to God to strike down our enemies? For who else but He can place such divine judgement on someone? Even when God chose Moses as His holy man, it was He who brought down the plagues. Moses only spoke on His behalf.”

“But it was still Moses who took up his staff and channeled God’s power to make the rivers of Egypt run red. You must be willing to act as God’s vessel, lest you displease Him by shirking your duties to your town.”

The bleating pounded in Marta’s ears. “I don’t know…”

“Think of it this way.” Knoth took her by the arm and brought her forward. “You only sin when you kill in vain. For the lives of these animals was slain to feed our people. It is not without purpose that we take life. You spill blood in His name and you do not sin in vain. For this creature has tarried on this earth for too long. Its flesh has grown old and brittle and the spirit fights for freedom to go into Paradise everlasting. It longs for God’s green pastures where it may never know pain again. You can put an end to this suffering and grant it entrance through Heaven’s gates. Do you understand?”

Marta narrowed her eyes at the goat’s continual cry. “Then tell me how to make the cut quick.”

“Slitting the throat should drain the blood quickest.”

She knelt down. The goat scurried back to distance itself from Marta, leaving her to yank on the rope to bring it closer. The pull was strong enough to make the goat stumble and fall to its knees. While it struggled to stand, Marta dragged the knife across its throat. The blade went too deep and blood spurted, covering her hand and wrist, though she had only begun to cut.

The goat writhed and cried out as blood came from its neck, gathering in a pool beneath it, but it would not die.

Marta went to finish the cut, but the knife fell from her grasp. If not for the creature’s damned bleating, she would have heard it clatter on the floor. She tried to pick the blade up, but the blood made it slip, sliding farther from her. 

The shrieks rose in volume, but Marta did not reclaim the blade. Instead, she reached forward and took the goat’s head into her hands. It was so small that she could have crushed it like a walnut, but she twisted and snapped its neck in one quick movement.

The goat’s mouth remained open in its final cry. One wrong movement and the head would detach from the body. Marta sank to her knees as she sighed in relief at the silence that followed. Knoth came behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Well done, my dear,” he crooned. “You were a little clumsy with the blade, but in time it will be natural.”

Marta reached for the knife. The blood stuck it to her like glue. In her oversized hands, it looked like a child’s plaything. She tightened her grip, knuckles whitening. “This blade does not suit me.” 

She took a deep breath. The goat’s stench overpowered the rest of the blood and viscera. It filled Marta’s lungs seeped through her clothes, clinging to her as she stood to depart with Knoth in silence.


	15. Chapter 15

The days that followed blurred together. The slaughterhouse became as regular as trips to the market. More animals died at Marta’s hand, some sick and needing rest, but a few remained strong and hearty until their final breath. Knoth’s praises always followed.

No longer did Marta bat an eye nor wretch at the stench. It had become so much a part of her that people crinkled their noses and whispered as she passed them, but she never stayed long enough to hear them theorize on her state and smell.

As time passed, Knoth shirked his duties so long that he abandoned Marta for a day at the chapel. While he tended to his flock, Marta saw to her chores and went to gather firewood. Axe in hand, she travelled into the forest. She came to a clearing with a barren stump in the center. Around it lay several logs. Townsmen often used the space for gathering lumber when they hadn’t room in their own yards for the task, but today, only Otis worked on breaking down pieces of wood. He paused and sniffed at the air, but when he looked around, he couldn’t see Marta until she stepped forward.

“Good day.”

He flinched. “Oh, hey...didn’t hear you come up.”

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Otis shook the last of his nerves then stepped aside. “You want the block for a little?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Be my guest.”

He set a piece of wood on the stump, and she thanked him before bringing the axe down.

“Don’t mention it.” He drank from his canteen as she swung the axe again.

“How have you been?” Marta asked.

He shrugged. “I’ve been okay, aside from falling behind on chores, as you can see.”

“That makes two of us.”

Another swing.

“Well, you’ve been busy, right?” His question came slowly, deliberately.

“...Yes.”

“And Knoth is still making you do his chores?”

“I volunteered.” Marta’s grip tightened as she chopped a block, then waited for Otis to place the next one.

“My mistake,” he uttered.

“It’s fine.”

Splinters flew off the last cut, falling with the dead leaves on the ground.

“I’ve been…” She chopped another block as she searched for an answer. “Okay.”

“That’s good. People have been saying some weird things and I wasn’t sure if you were alright.”

“What do they say?” Marta looked up.

“Everyone thinks Knoth is training you for something, but no one knows what. They only say he’s acting strangely and you always smell of blood.”

“Do I reek of it now?”

“...A little.”

“Think nothing of it.” Marta wiped the sweat from her brow. “I needed to pick up meat from the slaughterhouse for tonight’s dinner.”

“Alright.” Otis fetched more wood.

“And how is Paige?” Marta asked after another cut. “I seldom see her in town these days.”

“Because she’s been sick,” He answered too quickly. When Marta raised an eyebrow, he continued, “The colder months most likely.”

“I’m sorry to hear.”

“It’s fine, just a cold. A little rest and she’ll be alright.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? If you have chores to attend to, I can go to your home and aid Paige in her housework so she may rest.”

“No!” He blurted loudly enough to make Marta stop and stare. He cleared his throat. “You don’t have to worry about us, really. She’s probably asleep anyways. No need to wake her.”

“Yes, but...I had still hoped to see her, even if only for a moment. I never did apologize about…” She bit her lip. “Georgette, right?”

“Forget it. It’s no big deal.” Otis avoided meeting her gaze.

“Are you sure? She seemed awfully upset at the time.”

“It’s not like you did it on purpose. She won’t stay mad forever.”

“So she is mad.”

“No-no! What I mean is she was mad, but she’s fine now!” 

“Except her cold.”

“Right, the cold!” Otis attempted a smile which Marta returned with narrowed eyes.

“Can you get me one last block of wood?” 

“Oh, sure…”

Once he set it before her, he nearly jumped at how fast and hard the axe came down, splitting the wood in two.

Otis went to tie his own collection. “I need to get going.” He’d have left without a goodbye if Marta hadn’t called after him.

“Good day and God bless,” she said, her voice flat.

“Yeah...God bless,” Otis muttered without facing her.

Marta watched him hurry off. He might have ran if not for the wood anchoring him. Marta decided to follow him.

Not once did Otis turn as she trailed behind. Even if he did, he wouldn’t have spotted her weaving through the shadows cast by the trees. She took great effort to keep her steps silent when lingering outside his home. There, she waited until Paige opened the door to let Otis in. She wore oven mitts and a stained apron, smiling sweetly as ever, chattering about something Marta couldn’t hear. They disappeared inside and Marta returned home for the evening.

Marta cooked dinner as any other night, but rather than inquire about Knoth’s day, she asked of blood.

“People take notice of the scent. They’ve begun to talk.”

“Then let them,” he replied. “So long as you confirm nothing, idle prattle is all it will be.”

“But it gives me away.”

They locked eyes for a moment before he nodded. “I have an idea.” He left the table and returned with a small globe on a thin chain. Incense seeped through. “Take this with you when you go through town. It will mask the scent and if any ask, say that you returned from chapel.”

“Thank you. I shall try that.”

Without another word on the matter, they dined like any other night. 

The following evening, Marta lingered outside the Walsh home again. She dared to draw closer, with the incense burner tied around her waist. 

Framed by a brightly lit window, Paige and Otis dined together. Seth preferred to build a mound out of his mashed potatoes to bury his vegetables. Once or twice, Otis scolded Seth, but Seth would only chomp into the juicy steak and demand dessert after putting the intact vegetables on Paige’s plate.

When Marta tired of watching, she returned home and retired for bed without dinner.

Each night, Marta watched them through that window. 

Sometimes, Knoth caught her sneaking in long past supper. He sat at the empty table, leaving the kitchen untouched. Marta waited for a scolding, but only received wordless stares as she walked past him to retire for bed. Not once did he ask where she had been.

One evening, curtains shielded the window that Marta usually watched them through. All the lights had been snuffed out, from the kitchen to the living room, even the porch. Only a faint glow came from one of the bedroom windows. Though that window was covered as well, Marta drew closer. She removed her boots so that she could step onto the porch without disturbing the creaky planks. Tiptoeing, Marta made her way to the outside of the bedroom where she could barely hear them. 

“I can’t do this.” Otis’s voice broke through first.

“Yes, you can,” Paige made no effort to manage her tone. “Just stick it in there and I’ll tell you what to do.”

Marta covered her mouth. She considered running, but remained when the talk continued.

“But what if I hurt you?”

Paige groaned. “Then I’ll tell you and you could pull it out and try again! We just have to focus!”

“But—”

“Stop it! We can’t put this off any longer. It has to be tonight.”

“What if we wake up Seth?”

“Otis, oh my God!” Paige nearly shouted. “If Seth wakes up then you just put him back to bed! You could tell him whatever you want afterwards, but right now, just do it.”

“Alright, alright…”

Marta held her breath in the silence that followed, only releasing it when Paige spoke again.

“What the hell are you waiting for!?”

“There has to be another way.” Otis said almost too quietly to hear. “This is too dangerous.”

“Otis!”

“No! I’m not doing it! We’ll think of something else!”

“By the time we ‘think of something else,’ it’ll be too late! Either you help me or I’ll do it myself!”

“Paige, give that back!”

“No! I’m doing this whether you like it or not! If you want to help, get the mirror so I don’t mess up!”

Marta could hear Otis’s footsteps run off for a moment, though they quickly returned.

A gasp from Paige followed as if someone knocked the breath out of her, then a slight groaning. 

Eyes wide, Marta sank to sit, her back against the wall. Every whimper, moan, and cry that broke through the wall made her shrink further into herself. Her head hung low as she tried to discern the sounds as pain or pleasure. 

Then came a final, loud cry. It lacked the restraint of the other sounds, making Marta jolt up. She took her shoes and went far enough so she could no longer hear the two.

For a good time, she waited in the darkness when the front door flew open.

Otis exited with a bloodied sheet gathered in his arms. Setting it down, he then fetched a shovel from the shed. He looked over the area, missing Marta in the dark, reclaimed the sheet, and departed.

If not for her unnaturally long strides, Marta would have struggled to keep up with him as he ran. He would slow only when passing certain houses too closely. Despite his apparent carefulness, he never looked back until he reached the outskirts of town. Even so, he pressed forward.

Without the buildings’ shadows to hide her, Marta fell further behind, making do with cliffs and jags to mask her presence.

A mile outside of Temple Gate, Otis stopped. He set the sheet down before digging. He only dug few feet deep before setting the shovel down, then took the bundle and placed it in the hole carefully, as if he feared whatever lay inside would break. Only after great hesitation did he fill in the hole and start back to town.

Marta didn’t follow. Rather, she went to the newly dug plot and knelt before it.

The dirt moved easily under her bare hands. Much of it caked under her nails, but she continued to dig until reaching the sheet. Dirt stains now joined the splotches of red. She lifted it and felt an unmistakable weight. Setting it down, she muttered a quick prayer before unfolding it, as if unwrapping a gift.

Under the final fold was a bloodied fetus, wrinkled, undersized, and lumpy. It resembled a pulp, but human, its eyes shut and little mouth frozen open.


	16. Chapter 16

Marta rose the same hour as every other day. She went to the kitchen, but rather than prepare breakfast, she brought the child’s remains and set them on the table as a bloody centerpiece. She took her seat and waited for Knoth to come downstairs.

“Good morning, Papa,” she greeted when he entered.

His eye remained on the bloodied, dirtied bundle while he took his seat. “What is the meaning of this?”

“It’s best if I show you.” Marta slowly unwrapped the sheet. The fetus had shriveled overnight, but retained its human shape.

“My God…” Knoth made the sign of the cross. “Does anyone else know?”

“None but you.”

“Where did you find this?”

“A mile outside of town, buried late in the night.”

“And who buried it?”

Marta sighed, “It was Otis.”

Though her gaze had drifted to the table, Marta could hear the smile in Knoth’s voice. “Otis, you say. Now why would he do such a thing?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Marta said.

“Then we must find out.” Knoth stood. “Come, child. We mustn’t delay.” He started for the door, but Marta remained seated.

“You go on ahead of me. I’ll have breakfast ready for your return.”

“I won’t hear of it.” He grinned and held out a hand for her. “You’ve done a great service for your town by unveiling this sin. It is only fit that you see it to the end.”

Marta shook her head. “There is no need. I brought you the proof you require, so don’t concern yourself further with me.”

“There’s no need to be nervous. We’ll face this trial together.” He reached out in an attempt to run a hand through her hair, but Marta stood before he could. 

She gathered up the sheet and joined his side. “Shall we be off?” 

“Yes, let’s,” Knoth said, the grin falling from his face as they walked out the door.

It was still early enough in the day that none witnessed their journey to conjure up rumors of Marta’s cargo. Only the wind echoed through the cliffs, beating at their backs. Gentle waves surfaced the lake and mingled at the shore. 

The curtains still covered the windows in the Walsh home and none of the lights were on. Nonetheless, Knoth marched to the door and knocked. 

With no answer, he knocked again.

“Maybe we should come back later.” Marta said. “They could still be sleeping.”

Instead, Knoth pounded on the door. “Open up! It’s Knoth!”

It opened as he shouted. In its frame stood Otis. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair tangled. He opened his mouth to greet them but went pale when he saw the sheet in Marta’s arms.

“We need to have a word with you,” Knoth said.

“Otis?” Seth’s voice broke through before he could answer. “What’s goin’ on? I heard a bangin’ at the door, but it ain’t breakfast time yet.” He yawned and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. The other held an old teddy bear. 

“It’s nothing you need to worry about. Go on back to bed.” Otis forced a smile through his shaking voice. He ushered him down the hall, but Seth looked over his shoulder and caught sight of Knoth and Marta.

“What’re they doin’ here?” he asked. “What’s Miss Martha holdin’?”

“Never you mind that. You just sleep a little longer, okay? I’ll wake you when it’s time for breakfast.”

“Okie-doke.” Seth yawned once again before entering his room. 

After seeing Seth to bed, Otis returned to Knoth and Marta, shutting the front door behind him. “What the hell are you doing here? It’s the crack of dawn and you come here without a moment’s notice, waking poor Seth…”

“You know very well why we’re here,” Knoth said. He motioned for Marta. “Show him.”

Marta opened the sheet to show Otis the fetus. Though he winced, he shook his head. “You have no basis to accuse me. That...that could be anyone’s. Why come to me?”

“Because I saw you,” Marta said, her face unmoving even as his eyes widened.

“I…” he trailed off. “Paige miscarried!”

“I was never told she was pregnant,” Knoth said.

Otis bit his lip. “That’s because we didn’t know at the time. It was only last night when we found out. It’s unfortunate, but you must understand that these things happen.”

“I understand plenty well,” Knoth spoke pleasantly. “It is not unheard of for God to reclaim His children before they enter this world. What I do not understand is how Paige could not have been aware of her state.” He glanced at the fetus. “It must be a few months old by now. Surely she would have known, don’t you think?”

“Look, it just happened!” Otis was frenzied in his speech now. “She miscarried last night and we were scared to come forward. That’s it, I swear.”

“If that’s all you know, then we should ask Paige directly. It is her child, after all.” Knoth stepped forward, but Otis placed himself between him and the door.

“Step aside,” Knoth spoke so low that even Marta flinched.

“No.” Otis held his ground. “I won’t let you in.”

The slap came so fast that Marta didn’t see it in the instant she blinked. 

Otis’s head hung low, but he kept his place.

“Now let me make myself perfectly clear,” Knoth seethed. “It matters little to me whether we find the truth through you or your woman, but it will be made known one way or another. I strongly suggest you cooperate to save us both the time and trouble.”

Still, Otis remained, his tone hushed. “If I tell, you have to promise to leave Paige and Seth alone.”

“You have my word.”

After taking a deep breath, Otis said, “It was me.”

Knoth leaned forward, as if struggling to hear. “What did you say?”

Otis looked up then, his cheek reddened. “It was me. I killed the child.”

Marta’s eyes widened.

“And why would you do such a thing?” 

“I did it because I was jealous.” Otis stood tall. “I knew Paige was pregnant and I knew the child was yours. I hated thinking that another man laid with my wife, even if it was the prophet, so I took my authority as husband and rid her of the child.”

“Papa—” Marta attempted to interject, but Knoth put up a hand to silence her.

“You swear this to be the truth?” he asked.

Looking Knoth in the eye, Otis answered, “I swear before God Himself that it’s true.”

“Very well then,” Knoth said curtly. “I accept your confession under the condition that you return with me to the chapel. There you shall remain under custody of the church until you have repented for your sins and no sooner. Is that understood?”

“Understood.”

“Then follow me.” Knoth started off, but Otis stayed at the door. “Didn’t you hear me?” 

“I did but…” Otis’s expression softened. “I want to say goodbye to my family. Won’t you just let me explain to them what’s going on? I promise I’ll only take a minute and then I’ll go with you.”

“They’ll know soon enough. Now, come.”

“But, Knoth—”

“Marta!” Knoth shouted over Otis’s interruption. “Walk alongside him. I don’t want him running off.”

“But Papa, you’re acting in haste,” Marta stressed. “I believe we should speak with Paige before we act.”

“He has made his confession. To refuse would be to deny him salvation. You do want to see him saved, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, but if you would just lis—”

“Then there is nothing to argue. Come along, dear. This won’t be long. It’s only a short walk.” Before anyone could argue, Knoth grabbed Otis’s arm and yanked him forward. “Now get moving!”

Before Marta joined them, she looked back.

Peeking through the bedroom window was Paige. She locked eyes with Marta for only a moment before letting the curtains fall.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes out to my friend, Billy. She knows exactly why.

For the first time in weeks, Marta didn’t hear her name amidst whispers when she journeyed into town. Instead they spoke of Otis as they made their way to the chapel.

All dressed head to toe in black. Women dabbed tears from the corners of their eyes while the men shook their heads and muttered “what a shame” as they walked through the entranceway. They whispered curses towards Otis and blessings to each other.

Knoth matched their melancholy in his darkest and plainest robes. He stood beside a tiny coffin, not much larger than a newborn’s cradle. The fetus lay nestled in the cushions lining the wooden box.

On the other side, Otis sat on his knees, chained and gagged with a cloth. His head hung low to avoid the testament’s unwavering glares and muttered curses. Only occasionally he glanced up at Paige and Seth sitting in the front pew. If he stared too long, Knoth would shoot a glare that made him look back down.

Marta sat in one of the pews furthest back, near Otis’s parents. They whispered accusations at each other until Knoth asked that the congregation rise for the opening hymnal.

The people sang more quietly than usual, struggling through their tears. They muttered their amens as Knoth recited the opening rites until reaching the invocation.

“Our Loving, Eternal, Heavenly Father, as we meet this morning to grieve this fallen child, we ask You to be to us the God of all comfort, and the God of all grace. Give us perspective as we face the reality of death, to grow in our knowing of the truths of life. We ask this in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”

“Amen.”

“Children…” Knoth’s voice lacked its usual booming quality. “There is no greater tragedy than one taken before their time. Especially when that life is one of our own. Today, we are gathered here so that we may see this child off to Paradise everlasting, where it may enter God’s embrace.”

One of the women in the crowd cried. Knoth stepped down to meet her. Though her husband sat beside her, Knoth took her hands. “But weep not for this child. For there is no grief in guaranteed entrance to Heaven. Our tears are shed out of our own loss and self-pity, but take comfort in knowing that this child shall know no pain. Let us exalt our Lord and His awesome mercy. May we all aspire to be welcomed into His kingdom as this little child, whose faith is most perfect.” He released the woman then and returned to the pulpit. 

“I now ask that the mother come forward with a eulogy she has prepared.” He stepped aside for Paige to take her place before the congregation.

She cleared her throat before speaking. “I come before you today with a heavy heart.” A sob escaped her, though a black veil hid her face. “For I have been robbed a woman’s greatest honor. I entered marriage in the hopes of bearing my husband many fine children. That is what makes this all the harder to endure.” She seemed to fight back tears. “I weep for the child I should have born and seen grow among my people. Some nights I plead with God for understanding of why I must go through this trial, but I know I must trust in Him that all is according to His grand design. Now is the time that I must hold to my faith and carry on, as we all must, no matter how hard. I only ask that you keep me and my husband in your prayers during this difficult time.”

Murmurs erupted in the crowd as Paige took her seat.

Knoth, however, smiled as he spoke above them. “Now, children, she’s right. For none is so in need of prayer as the lamb led astray.” He placed a hand on Otis’s head, gripping a handful of hair when he tried to wriggle from his hold. “For the demon of envy has planted itself inside him and blackened his heart. Such is what drove him to commit the greatest sin of all in the night. That which is punishable by the pit!” He paused as the testament muttered in agreement. “But I believe he can be saved yet! For Satan has infected his soul, but if the demon can be purged...perhaps God’s light can reach him. For God turned none away who sought him, neither whore nor murderer nor rapist, and we must strive to be like Him! So pray for this wayward soul! May we prove through him that there is no opposition that cannot be overcome in the Lord’s good graces!”

As the crowd cheered, Knoth knelt down to speak on Otis’s level. “Your redemption begins now, my child. Lead us in prayer for this life you have stolen,” he said before he removed the cloth.

Rather than speak, Otis spat in Knoth’s face. He glared, even when Knoth went red. 

When Knoth raised his hand to smack him, Seth cried out. He escaped Paige’s hold to run between them. He punched and kicked at Knoth, face red with fury. “Stop it! Otis din’t do nothin’!” 

Knoth snatched one of Seth’s wrists to stop an incoming punch.

“Let go! That hurts!” Seth attempted to wring free, but Knoth tightened his hold. 

When he didn’t let go, Seth bit down, Knoth threw him aside with enough force to send him reeling. He crashed into the pulpit with a loud thump as Knoth observed the beads of blood on his hand.

“Seth, that’s enough!” Otis snapped. “Sit back down!”

But Seth shot back up and ran towards Knoth. He ran as fast as he could with balled fists, but before he could strike again, strong arms scooped him up.

Upon looking up, Otis saw his own father glaring him down. Seth thrashed uselessly in his hold and his cries went unanswered. 

“Dad, please…” Otis’s eyes watered.

But he shook his head as he walked off with Seth in tow.

Tears streamed down Otis’s cheeks as he watched his father’s back. Seth never stopped kicking and flailing.

“Now, now, there’s no need to cry.” Knoth came down to Otis’s level and wiped his tears with the ends of his sleeves. When Otis tried to look away, Knoth roughly grabbed his chin, though he maintained his kind tone. “Salvation is nothing to fear. I’m here to help if you would just let me. For there are times when God must chastise His children in order to correct them on the path of righteousness. The road may be trying, but the rewards shall be great. I only need you to accept my guiding hand and you shall know salvation.”

“Whatever you say,” Otis barely spoke above a whisper.

“Can you speak a little louder? I couldn’t hear you.”

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Otis replied, “Yes, Papa…”

“Good. Now, I ask again that you lead us in prayer for this life you’ve slain.”

Otis bowed his head. “Our Father who art in Heaven, I ask that you welcome this life into Your Kingdom. For it is returned to You pure and without sin. I only ask that You forgive me of my own. Amen.”

“Amen.”

When the service ended, most people departed, but Marta remained.

At first Marta pretended not to notice Paige, but she eventually came too close to avoid a greeting. “Good day, Paige.”

“Good day, Marta.” She had removed her veil, showing dry eyes. “May I have a word with you?”

“Certainly,” Marta replied, though her heart skipped a beat.

They went to an empty side yard. Paige spoke first. “You know this is wrong.”

“So is lying.”

“That doesn’t give Knoth the right to treat him like that!” Paige’s hands clenched into little fists.

“Then you should come forward with the truth. Nothing is stopping you and it shall set your conscience at ease.”

“But at what cost?” Paige challenged. “You and I both know I would suffer doubly at Knoth’s hands.”

Marta sighed heavily. “Nonetheless, Otis made his choice and must face the consequences.”

“Not like this.” Paige continued after a pause, “I don’t want to ask anything that would get you in trouble too. I only go to you because I know that you can help him better than I could.”

Marta shook her head. “I’m sorry, but it is out of my hands now.”

“No, it isn’t.” Paige’s jaw clenched. “How can you say that before you’ve even tried?”

“Because this is not my sin to answer for.”

“But you’re the reason he’s in there! The moment you told, you made yourself as much a part of this as us. Whether you like it or not, you’re responsible and you should do something about it. If you could just talk to Knoth, even if only to treat Otis a little kinder…”

“You speak as if I control the prophet’s thoughts.”

“Then forget the prophet!”

Marta gasped, covering her mouth. “Paige, that…”

“Think not on the prophet, but what God would ask of you, without Knoth’s words in your mind.”

“But the prophet’s word is His word.”

Paige was quiet for a long time before speaking. “Then why are you acting the role of Joseph’s brothers who sold him to slavery and deprivation for their human pettiness?”

Marta tensed, her shoulders hunched. “You forget that it was in deprivation that Joseph’s faith was most pure.” She stormed off before Paige could respond.


	18. Chapter 18

Several weeks after the funeral, Knoth requested Marta’s presence at the chapel. He asked that she bring a tray of food and water to the last meditation chamber down the hall.

“And stay with him through the hour.” He handed her a key. “There are matters I must attend to, but I shan't be long.”

“I understand.”

They exchanged quick blessings, then went opposite ways.

Marta passed a row of open doors. The chambers remained free for any who sought to be nearer to God, yet the one at the end of the hall was chained shut with a large padlock. Though she had the key, she knocked on the door. “Otis, it’s Marta. I’m coming in.” She allowed a few moments before entering.

Without a bed nor mat to lay on, Otis settled on nestling into the corner. A crucifix hung on the wall and an untouched gospel lay in the opposite corner. There were no windows, but the cold winter air outside seeped in through thin, scattered cracks along the cell.

When Marta closed the door, he looked up at her. His eyes had fogged and sunken into dark circles, made even darker when paired with dry and pale skin.

“Here.” Marta set the tray down before sitting across from him.

Though only unleavened bread sat on the tray, Otis snatched it as if someone would steal it if he waited any longer. He wasted no time in eating it like a feast.

“Do not eat so hastily,” Marta said. “Only a little bit at a time, lest you make yourself ill.”

After swallowing, he nodded. “Thank you,” His voice strained as he spoke.

“Do not thank me. It was Papa who requested that I bring this meal to you.”

Otis paled as he dropped the bread. “What’s wrong with it?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“He hasn’t let me eat since the funeral. Why would he give me something now?”

“I do not know. I only know what he told me.”

“And you didn’t think to ask questions?”

“I...saw no need to…” she uttered, looking to the ground.

“Forget it. I best take what I can get,” Otis grumbled, picking the bread up and taking another bite. When he reached for the water, Marta could see how his clothes hung on him.

“I have no doubt you would be granted more if you would just heed the prophet’s teachings. You must understand that he is only doing this as a last resort. For many have seen God in their most desperate hour, but you need not bring it upon yourself like this.”

Otis raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you think this is?”

“I see no other reason why he would deprive you for this long.”

“It’s because he hates me.”

“That’s not true,” Marta said. “The prophet loves all God’s creatures.”

“More like the seed of Satan after that stunt I pulled.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“Because it was the only way I could come up with to let him know he doesn’t own me.”

“But it only made things difficult for you. God does not wish to see you suffer. I understand that you are frightened to give all to God and let Him take the reins, but He will lift your heavy burden so you may live in peace. Salvation is within your reach. Why do you so callously push it away?”

“Because what you call ‘salvation’ comes at too high a cost.”

“But there is no other road to peace. It is only through God that we know our way, our very purpose. All return to Him in the end, so please, won’t you at least try to understand what Papa is telling you? Let him help you, just listen and this can all come to an end.”

“It’s not going to be that easy!” Otis snapped. “This isn’t about God or forgiveness anymore. It’s about Knoth and how I’ve slighted him from the moment I stepped foot in this town. He’s the one I must answer to, and now that he found a reason to put me in here, he’ll see that I pay dearly for every sin he could think of and then pay some more. Even if he lets me out, it’s not going to end. He’ll still have control of my life and could throw me back in here for the smallest transgressions if he so wishes. If you ask him, my sins are too great and numerous to forgive, so he cast me into this man-made hell since the pit is too merciful for the likes of me.”

“Otis, that’s not—”

“Do you know how cold the nights are in here? I’ve asked him for a blanket, but he never gives me one and I nearly freeze. Or how about the time he refused me water for two days when I talked back to him? I would have died if it was one day more!”

She took a deep breath to steady her voice. “God does not put us through anything that we cannot endure. Your suffering is a sign of your capability and a test of faith.”

Otis seethed. “Is that the same bullshit he told you when you starved for his sake?”

“Yes,” Marta’s expression didn’t change. “And it brought me to this sanctuary.”

“Some sanctuary,” Otis scoffed.

Rather than argue, Marta let him finish his meal and curl back up in the corner. He might have managed to doze off if the door hadn’t opened.

Knoth stood in its frame with a pair of garden shears in hand. “You may go now, dear,” he told Marta. “I can take it from here.”

Otis paled when he laid eyes on the shears then looked up at Marta. He mouthed,“don’t leave.”

When Marta delayed, Knoth walked between her and Otis. “I thank you for this favor, but I’ve taken enough of your time. No need for you to be cooped up in here on such a lovely day. We’ll talk at dinner tonight.”

“Marta,” Otis pleaded as she started for the door.

“I will be praying for you,” was all Marta said before leaving. She didn’t look back as the door shut behind her.


	19. Chapter 19

Marta kept her word. 

Each night she prayed for Otis through his deterioration.

More frequently, Knoth asked that Marta watch and tend to Otis. They said little to each other in those days, as he would take the food Marta brought before drifting into a restless slumber. He was only left alone when suppertime came and Knoth locked the chapel. He and Marta would then walk home and dine together. They never spoke of Otis during those meals, until Paige came to their doorstep one night.

She brought with her a fresh-baked pie and the sweetest of smiles. “Good evening,” she chirped when Marta answered the door.

“What are you doing here?” Marta asked too quietly for Knoth to hear.

“You must forgive me for arriving so suddenly, but I am left with questions and worries that none but the prophet can put to rest.” She held up the dessert as an offering, and her cheeks seemed rosier than usual, but Marta still blocked the entrance. 

“Then you can come to chapel in the morning to speak to him. Whatever you have to ask can wait until then.”

“But I worked so hard on making this for the prophet and came all this way,” Paige spoke louder. “Won’t you let me in for just a little? It’s getting dark and I don’t want to go home alone at this hour.”

“Marta, who are you talking to?” Knoth asked from the table.

“It’s just Paige. She wanted to drop something off, but she’ll be leaving,” Marta replied, keeping her eyes on Paige.

“Oh, have her come in!” Knoth beamed. “She can join us for dinner.”

“Thank you, kindly, Papa!” Paige hurried through the door, bumping against Marta on the way to the table. She set the pie beside the meal Marta prepared before seating herself.

“How generous you are to allow me to join you both on such short notice.” She bowed her head. “I don’t want to be a burden, but I just couldn’t wait until morning…”

“You could never be a burden, my dear,” Knoth assured. 

“Really?” Paige’s eyes brightened. “I was so worried I would be causing trouble by coming here.”

“Not at all. In fact, I’m glad you came. I’ve been meaning to speak to you personally for some time now.”

“You have?”

“Yes, I never did get the chance to personally offer my condolences for your great loss.”

Paige frowned, as if struggling to remember something, until she exclaimed, “Oh! Yes…my child...” Her voice wilted. “My grief was a trial I thought impossible at first, but as so many have offered their kindness and support, each day gets a little easier to endure, and I especially thank you for your personal recognition of my struggle.”

Knoth’s smile bordered on smug. “Think nothing of it. You are a strong woman to carry on after such a loss, but none should be deprived of God’s comfort.”

Paige continued as if she hadn’t just shuddered. “Oh, Papa, you truly are a most kind and generous man.”

“And you are a most flattering child. It truly is a shame that your husband was unable to realize the same. To do such a thing to you...”

Paige bit her lip. “That’s...actually what I wished to speak with you about.”

Knoth leaned forward on his elbows. “Go on…”

“I know I shouldn’t but...I can’t help but worry about him. Though I know he can be in no better hands than yours, I still fret. To go so long without a husband to lean on has been agonizing. If I could just see him, if only for an instant, I believe that would give me the strength to carry on.”

“Child,” Knoth trailed off into a chuckle as he shook his head. “I cannot give you what you wish for at this time. What I can offer is my personal promise that soon your husband shall see God. I will remain vigilant in his road to redemption so that he returns to you a man of good faith, whatever the cost may be.”

Though he spoke kindly, Paige’s eyes began to water. She took a napkin to dab her tears.

Knoth reached over to lift her chin with a finger. “I know this is all very hard for you, but you must not forget that God will not abandon you in your time of need. Your people are here for you. I am here for you.”

Paige tore herself from him and shot from her seat. “I-I’m sorry. I…” She swallowed a sob. “I can’t...I need to be alone. Forgive me!” She ran up the stairs, her weeping loud enough to reach the kitchen.

Knoth only shrugged and continued to eat. Marta followed suit. In silence, they dined until their plates were cleared, Paige’s abandoned.

“Go check on her,” Knoth said. “She’s suffered alone long enough.”

“Yes, Papa.” She stood and marched up the stairs. First, she looked to the bathroom. The door was ajar with no one inside. Marta then turned. Passing by the other rooms, she went straight to Knoth’s and threw the door open.

Inside, Paige rummaged through the drawers at the bedside table. Her eyes widened when she looked up at Marta, but showed no evidence of tears.

“What are you doing in here?” Marta asked. She no longer flinched at the aroma of wine and incense seeping from the room.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Paige shut the drawer so she could dig through the next one, only finding bottles of pills. “If I could just get the key, there wouldn’t be anything else to worry about. Won’t you just tell me where it is? He would never suspect you told. That’s all I need.”

“Get out.” Marta’s voice was low as she stepped forward.

“But—”

“Out.”

Paige slammed the drawer shut before storming through the doorway and back into the hall. She crossed her arms while waiting.

Marta took her place in the room. She checked the areas Paige searched and organized the items so they appeared untouched. “Where else did you check?”

“The dresser and under the mattress.”

Marta tended to those areas too, organizing the dresser and tucking the sheets under the mattress. Only then did she join Paige in the hallway. “Tell him you are feeling ill. It’s time you leave.”

“Fine.” Paige sighed as she followed Marta down the stairs.

Once they stepped foot in the kitchen, Knoth went to greet them. “There you are! We were getting worried.”

“Forgive me, Papa.” Paige’s head hung low. Tears resurfaced. “I...I thought I would be okay, but...I don’t know...I couldn’t stop crying and now I feel sick to my stomach…” She hunched over into herself.

“Oh, you poor dear.” Knoth went to usher her towards the couch. “Please, lie down for a bit.”

Paige shook her head, refusing to sit. “I couldn’t intrude. I...I should go home.”

“Then allow me to walk you home.” He stepped forward, looming over her. “You can’t go on in this state.”

“I—”

“I’ll take her home,” Marta said over both of them. Before Knoth could protest, Marta took Paige’s wrist, dragging her out and slamming the door behind her. 

“You can let go now,” Paige said when they were in the yard.

“Sorry,” Marta grumbled, releasing her.

Paige massaged her wrist in an attempt to stop the imminent bruising. “Don’t be. You helped me out of a bad situation back there.”

“I interrupted your search,” Marta remarked as she started toward the path to the lake.

“You did, but you also made sure Knoth didn’t find out,” Paige said.

“I didn’t want you to get in trouble.”

“But telling Knoth would have been the honest thing to do.” 

“You’ve been through enough,” she uttered. “It’s best if you remain quiet and unseen until this is through.”

“And when will that be?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then how do you know Otis will be okay?”

“Papa gave you his word.”

“His words can be twisted as he sees fit, and you know it.” 

Marta picked up her pace as they drew closer to the lake. 

“You don’t have to answer, but just listen to me.” Paige nearly ran to keep up with Marta’s strides. “No matter what Knoth tells us, we both know Otis is in danger. I would help him if I could, but I can’t get near. Even if I did, Knoth would never let us alone. He doesn’t trust me or anyone else as he does you. You are his best beloved and he would never do anything to hurt you. What you did tonight, speaking over him, and making a decision for yourself is a luxury none others have in Temple Gate. You could mold him in your favor if you so wished. This world is at your fingertips through him, but I’m not asking you the world. Only that you use the position and talents which God has granted you to help my husband, your friend.”

“We’re here,” Marta said as they came to her house.

Sighing, Paige stepped onto the porch. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Paige was about to enter, when she looked back to Marta. “Promise me that you’ll think about what I said.”

“Only if you promise me something in turn.”

“What is that?”

“Don’t you ever try something like that again. I lied for you once. I will not do it again.”

“I understand.” Paige nodded. “Good night, and God bless.”

“God bless,” Marta said as Paige closed the door behind her.


	20. Chapter 20

A pounding sounded from the other side of the door as Marta and Knoth walked down the hall. When they drew closer, muffled shouts could be heard through the walls. Scattered words like “help” and “monster” leaked through.

Marta hurried to the entrance, but Knoth kept a leisurely pace, taking his time in unlocking the door.

When he did, Otis was on his feet. His eyes reddened with tears, but he smiled at seeing Knoth. “Oh thank God you’re here!” He nearly wept in relief. “You have to let me out. There’s something here with me.”

Knoth stepped inside, leaving Marta to guard the door.

He glanced inside the chamber, but everything remained as before, the cross in its place and the gospel untouched. “What in Heaven’s name are you prattling on about?”

“Look up.” Otis’s arm shook as he pointed to the ceiling. “Don’t you see it?”

Marta and Knoth looked up, but only saw plain stone.

“There’s nothing there,” Knoth said.

“W-what?” Otis continued to stare, his eyes even wider. “How can you not see it?”

Knoth placed his hands on Otis’s shoulders and ushered him to sit, before kneeling so he could look him in the eyes. “Calm yourself, then tell me exactly what it is you’re seeing.” He spoke evenly as Otis swallowed a few shaky breaths.

“It came last night after you left. I was trying to sleep, when I heard wings. They were so loud, like something was flying right above my head, but when I woke up there was nothing there. But I still heard it and it got louder and louder until I couldn’t hear my own thoughts. That’s when I saw it.” He stared past Knoth, towards the ceiling. “It’s quieter now but it’s still there...pulsating, gyrating. All those eyes...there must be hundreds, no, thousands of them! Each one looks different, some like man’s, some like beast’s, and they stare in every direction, but somehow they all see me and then the teeth.” He shuddered. “I can hear them gnashing. They whisper obscenities to me, and no matter how much I try to shut them out, I can’t…” He went to cover his ears, but Knoth seized them to force him to listen.

“Then you must open your ears and heed their words. For God has granted you a vision.”

Otis’s jaw dropped. “N...no...that….that can’t be it! It must be something else…”

Knoth stood so he could claim the gospel in the corner. He easily flipped to the right page and spoke as if preaching to the congregation. “Chapter 5, Verse 5, And their faces were innumerable and joined to one another, a thousand eyes and everything a mouth, with wings and jaws inseparable even in sight, and the purpose of the eyes and the purpose of the jaws was both for a more perfect consumption.” He shut the gospel. “Is that not what you saw?”

Still, Otis shook his head. “You’re wrong. It’s because you won’t let me leave this room. It has to be! It’s driving me so crazy that I’m seeing the same bullshit you do, but it’s not real! None of it is! It can’t be…”

Knoth dropped the gospel and reached out and grip Otis’s neck. “Not real you say? Well, is this real enough for you?” He squeezed through Otis’s weak struggle. “You forget that His will is My will, and if I so wish for God to strike you down into nothing but dust, then it shall be done. Only through My mercy do you live, yet you constantly force me to take such drastic measures just to make you see what is so clear to everyone else.”

Otis’s face was blue by the time Marta uttered, “Papa?”

He looked back at her as if he forgot she was in the room. Knoth let go. Otis collapsed like a ragdoll, wheezing for breath.

“Come, Marta.” Knoth joined her side. “Let us leave him to meditate on his vision for the day.”

“Wait, no! I can’t be alone with that thing again!” Otis gripped Knoth’s robes and his eyes watered. “Real or not, I can’t stay in here! You could chain me up again if you have to, just let me out, even if it’s only for a little! I beg of you!”

Knoth shook Otis off like he were a pest. “Think on your sins and maybe you shall see the the light again.”

He slammed the door and locked it, even as Otis shouted after them.

“He’s getting close...isn’t he?” Marta asked. “To have a vision so like your own means he cannot be too far gone.”

Knoth shook his head. “One can only hope.”

“You still seem discouraged,” Marta remarked.

“He is at his lowest point, yet his stubborn pride keeps him from the Lord’s reach. If he does not relinquish his ego, then I fear he may be lost.”

“What would happen then?” Marta asked quietly.

“If that were to happen...” He took her hand that had wielded the blade and kissed her knuckles. “Then I would need you more than ever.”


	21. Chapter 21

Knoth asked Marta to lock the chapel doors behind them, which she did without question. They went straight to the chamber. Knoth didn’t bother to knock before unlocking the door and throwing it open.

Otis lay still on the floor aside from labored, hoarse breathing. 

“Get up,” Knoth snapped.

He did not stir aside from opening his foggy eyes. “What is it?” 

“A time to rejoice. Your day of redemption has come,” but Knoth’s voice was joyless when he held out a hand for Otis, who refused it in order to stand on his own. 

“Come,” Knoth started down the hall, too fast for Otis to keep up. 

Marta lagged behind to walk alongside Otis. Several times, she stopped so he could catch up. Their eyes met only once. The sun shone through the tall windows in the main hall, making Otis shudder. He squinted as his eyes contracted in the light. Leaning limp against a wall, he waited for his vision to adjust, but Marta called his name before it could.

Dragging his feet, he brought himself before Knoth.

“Kneel before the cross,” he ordered.

Otis did as told and bowed his head in prayer to accept Knoth’s blessing, all done with smoothness, as if they had gone through the ritual a hundred times before.

“I must commend your strength, my child,” Knoth started, “For you have endured so much that many a time I feared your flesh would fail you, but here you remain. God has blessed you with great tenacity, yet you throw it away in vain.” He sighed and knelt on one knee so he could meet Otis’s gaze. “Aren’t you tired?” His voice softened. “You must realize that you walk down the path that leads to ruin. I have only wanted to help you through all this time, yet you push me away and bring upon this suffering. Let me take the burden from you. Rest, go home to your wife and child, forget the pain. All I am asking is that you accept me as your prophet. Let the gospel guide your way, and there shall be peace for you.”

Otis’s gaze fell to avoid Knoth’s eye. For a long while, he said nothing. The whole period of silence, Marta held her breath. She released it only when he muttered, “I can’t…”

Knoth’s mouth formed a line. He stood, shaking his head. “Then there is nothing more I can do for you.” He left Otis where he was and placed a hand on Marta’s arm. “Give him rest, child.”

“What?” Marta stared at him in disbelief, but Knoth motioned her towards Otis.

“To continue as he is would only bring grief to himself and all around him. The time has come to end his suffering.”

Marta’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean…?”

He nodded when she couldn’t finish her thought. “I do. You are ready and we are left with no other choice.”

“That can’t be,” Marta staggered back, shaking her head as if she could dispel the order. Her stomach curled in on itself. “There must be another way!”

“But there isn’t,” Knoth said. “He has denied the Lord in our midst, committed the greatest sin of all, and we are witness to this. If he cannot repent, there is no place for him in Temple Gate.”

“He just needs a little more time!” Marta’s voice swayed. “I know his sins are great and numerous, but he is not a bad person.”

“More time? How much more do you ask for?” Knoth winced. “He’s been in this state for longer than would be possible without the Lord’s grace. I have offered him patience and grace so he may redeem himself, but he still turns his face from me, from God! None but He can save his soul now! It is the Lord who shall show mercy on the boy. For we have done all we can.”

“But he’s my friend,” Marta uttered.

Knoth rubbed his temple. “The enemy does not always come to us with its teeth gnashing and nostrils flared. Many times it wears the mask of goodness, only showing its true form when it is too late and all in its path has been devoured.”

“But—”

“Marta,” Though he spoke calmly, his face went a shade redder while guiding her to Otis. “Look at him. Do you think any man of faith and good sense would bring himself to this state? It is all of his own doing and if he lives on without correction, he becomes a plague to himself and to us. It will fester and infect all those who know him. Do not let this be what destroys all we have worked for, all we have suffered through. End it now. Give him peace and clear your conscience to see it done.”

She stared at Otis as Knoth spoke to her. His skin had gone white and chalky and bones nearly jut out. Hair that was once thick had gone scraggly and thin. His wheezing breath rang in Marta’s ears as she stepped towards him. When he was within an arm’s reach of her, she took out the knife that never left her since its gifting. She looked up slightly to avoid his clouded-over eyes as she raised the blade, her arm shaking. 

“Marta, please.” Otis could barely speak above a whisper now. “Don’t do this. I don’t want to die. Not like this.”

Staggering back, Marta lowered the blade. “I can’t do it.”

“What?” Knoth’s voice dropped. “What in God’s name is holding you back?”

Marta turned her back to Knoth. “I can’t do it. This is all too much.”

“The Enemy does not think on what is too much or too little! Your sentiment is blinding you to the truth right before your eyes! You will find no peace until you fulfill your God-given duty! Do it! Not just for your town, but for your sake! Make the cut quick if you so wish, but purge us of this evil at our doorstep!”

Marta hunched over, retreating further into herself. “I need more time.”

“Time is not something we have.” Knoth gripped her arms. He looked up at her when she attempted to stare at the floor. “Marta, my dearest, do this for me. There is none other I can trust as you. I need you to do this.”

“Then why don’t you do it?” Marta seethed, fists clenched.

“Excuse me?” Knoth stared as if he misheard her.

“You heard me. You do it.” She tore herself from his grasp and held out the knife to him. “You’re God’s holy man. Defend your town.”

“Marta, if you don’t silence yourself this instant—”

“Do it! Take the blade and save us from The Enemy!”

Knoth’s jaw dropped. “How dare you speak to me this way? After all I’ve done for you, all we’ve been through, and you have the audacity to shirk God’s duty.”

Marta reclaimed her weapon and stood straight, looming over Knoth. “I never wanted any of this! You’re the one who made me kill in your name! It was you who asked this of me!”

“I asked you in God’s stead!”

“Then go and tell God I need more time! How is that such a sin!? Why can’t you be patient with me when you won’t even do it yourself?!”

“You think I haven’t been patient with you?” He came forward. “I have been nothing but patient with you. I raised you as my own when they took your mother away. I gave you a childhood. I was even kind enough to wait for a sign before telling you of God’s plan!”

“That sign was an accident and you know it!”

“What I know of is God’s will for you, which you so callously deny!”

“It’s not God’s will I deny, it’s yours!”

Knoth’s face went red. “You speak heresy, child. My will is His will!”

“Then prove it! Lock me away and starve me like him!” She pointed to Otis, who never took his eyes from them. “Have God strike me down where I stand! Prove to me you are God’s chosen man! For I will not kill in vain!”

Marta waited for lightning to crash through the chapel and destroy her, but there was only a tight grip on her wrist. Knoth yanked hard enough to make her follow. “All these years I have spared the rod and spoiled the child. Mark my word, I will make that mistake no more. By the time I am through with you, never again will you question what I am to you.”

He hadn’t gone two steps before Marta pulled herself free. “Don’t touch me.”

“You insolent…” He reached for her again, but she shoved him with enough force to knock him off his feet. When he tried to get back up, the knife was pointed at his throat.

“Don’t you ever touch me.” She held the blade strong. “Not after everything you’ve done.”

Knoth paled as he held up his hands. Attempts to keep his voice steady proved in vain. “Now...now Marta, I know you’re upset. You’re...you’re confused and scared, and lashing out, but please, calm yourself and listen—”

“No! This time you’re going to listen to me!” She came so close that the tip of the blade met Knoth’s throat. “All my life I listened to you and it brought me nothing but grief! Don’t you realize everything I’ve done for you!? Everything I gave up!? I abandoned my own mother for you! I can barely remember her face, but I know she must have loved me because she wept when she was taken from me! Still, I chose you because I thought God’s love must be greater than any other! I did everything you asked and not once did I complain! Not when you brought us to the wilderness! Not when I starved for your sake! Not even when you drove me from people who cared until there was none left but you! Even when I doubted you, I followed your word! I read your gospel! I obeyed your teachings and I would have continued to do so! When I bled, I prepared myself to marry like every other woman, and to make your line a nation just like I was supposed to! I would have even married you if you had only asked! I waited and readied, yet you left me in the dark when all I ever wanted was to do right by you! Everything I did, everything I endured, all that I am is because of you, for you! There is no faith greater than that which I gave to you, yet you still ask me to prove it in blood! Why!? Why wasn’t all that I am already enough for you!?”

“Marta?” He had not spoken so softly since she was a child. She dropped the knife.

“I…” She could feel Knoth and Otis’s eyes on her. She watched Knoth rise to his feet, but when he reached out to her, she ran, leaving him and the blade behind.


	22. Chapter 22

The sun had begun to set by the time Marta collapsed to her knees. Its rays colored the cliffs, painting them a collection of reds, oranges, and violets. The shrubs and cacti cast shadows that towered over Marta as she wept.

“God, if You’re out there, I beg of You! Speak to me as You do to the prophet, just once. I need to hear Your guidance and to know that You have not forsaken me. I’m so lost and scared. I want to trust and do right by You, but I don’t know how anymore. I fear in Your chosen prophet, though I want to believe in him as I do You. For I could not have endured so much for nothing, so please, please...speak to me, Lord. Show me where to go from here. Please…”

She closed her eyes and waited for God’s reply, but only the wind whistled through the mountains, sticking dust against her dampened cheeks. She cried until her throat ran too dry to pray aloud any longer. Still, she waited for an answer that never came.

When she finally forced herself to stand, the sun had dipped behind the mountains, replaced by a full moon. No matter which direction Marta looked, Temple Gate was nowhere to be seen. She sought the sky for guidance, choosing the brightest star to follow.

Shadows surrounded her as she walked. They flickered in the moonlight and took shape in the darkness. Claws reached out for her; towering figures whispered accusations at her. She could feel their eyes on her, but she paid them no heed as she pushed through to the chapel’s faint glow, passing through the mines seldom used anymore since the testament had gathered its needed stone for homes.

Then, a gleam caught the corner of her eye.

Abandoned in its work, a pickaxe was wedged in a cracked boulder. The moon’s light reflected off the metal, drawing Marta to it. She started forward, but stopped. Its shine was too bright to stem from such a flimsy moon. Marta didn’t continue forward until removing her shoes. Still, her hands hovered when she stood before it, as if fearful to touch a holy relic. Only when she closed her eyes did she pry it from the stone. It fit in her hands perfectly.

“I understand now.” She looked to the heavens. “You have not given me this sign in vain, my Lord. Forgive me for doubting in You. I shall set forth to do Your work with this weapon You have granted.”

With the axe in hand, she continued toward the chapel, now with fast, purposeful strides. When she arrived, the doors were unlocked. She walked inside and searched the main area, finding it empty and still. Then, she started down the hall to the familiar chamber and froze.

The chain was torn from the door and the padlock discarded, a pick jammed in it. Marta only lingered for a moment before storming from the chapel.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this final chapter, I want to thank  Papillion  ,  Victoria  and  Neptune  who all beta-read this and helped me put my best work out there! This story wouldn't be what it was without them and I can't thank them enough for all their help <3 (pray I did these permalinks right)
> 
> I also want to thank all my readers who saw this through to the end! I hope you all enjoyed this story and I'd love to know your thoughts!

The lake was still and silent that night. Clouds covered the moon, so no light reflected from the surface. Anyone else would have stumbled somewhere along the way, but Marta made the journey with ease, even with the weight of the pickaxe.

Every other house on the water’s edge was dark, but the Walsh home shone bright for Marta to follow like a guiding star. Once close enough, she could hear voices through the thin walls.

“Otis, we don’t have time for this.” Irritation strained Paige’s voice. 

“Look, we just have to find Skippy then we can go,” Footsteps followed Otis’s statement.

“Skippy? What are you talking about?!” 

“Seth’s teddy bear! It’s his favorite toy and he won’t be able to sleep without it.”

“A teddy bear is why we haven’t left yet?!”

“It’ll only take a minute. It’s a small house. It couldn’t have gone far.”

“A minute is all it takes for someone to realize you’re missing, so just forget the bear! We have to leave now!”

Seth’s voice broke through next. “But we can’t leave Skippy behind!” Soft crying followed, which Otis was quick to shush, muttering words of comfort too quiet to hear outside the house.

Marta didn’t wait to hear the scolding from Paige. She headed for the door and attempted to open it, but a deadbolt on the other side kept it in place. Initially, she went to knock, but stopped. Taking a step back, she braced herself and threw her weight into the door. It only took once to break the bolt and allow her entrance.

Inside, the pantry doors were open and stripped of food. Blankets usually draped over couches had gone missing. On the table were remnants of a first aid kit.

Before Marta could observe any further, Paige rushed to meet her, dressed in sturdy travelling clothes and a bulging backpack.

“Marta...what are you doing here?” She took great efforts to keep her voice level. “Don’t you know Papa has been looking all over for you? Why do you come here when he’s worried sick?”

“I didn’t want him to find me.” Her voice had gone hoarse and raspy from crying. “Not yet…”

“But here you are. Why did you come back?”

Marta looked down at the pickaxe. “I finally understood my purpose.”

“You don’t mean…?”

Otis entered the room, a bloodied bandage wrapped over his left eye.

Seth peeked out from behind his leg. “What’s Miss Martha doing here?” 

“Never you mind that. I’ll take care of this.” He ushered Seth to stand by Paige so he could step in front of them and look Marta in the eye. “You wouldn’t spare me once to kill me now.”

“Not if you return with me to the chapel,” Marta said. “Ask the prophet for forgiveness and you shall have it.”

Otis’s jaw dropped. “You still think he’s the prophet...after everything he’s done.”

“You couldn’t possibly understand. You never understood.” Her grip on the axe tightened. “All you ever did was push salvation away and wonder why you were so miserable.”

“That’s because I never wanted salvation!” Otis shouted. “Not if it means believing in a god that allows that bastard to use and abuse us like this!”

“Don’t you dare speak of Papa that way!”

Paige tugged on Otis’s arm. “Stop it. You’ve said enough.” She attempted to pull him back, but he tore free and stepped forward.

“No! I’ll say whatever I damn well please after everything he put me through!”

“He only did that because you refused to see the light!”

“Then how do you justify what he did to Paige!? Or to you! Look at yourself! I used to feel sorry for you, but now I see that you’re no better than him, going off to do his dirty work because you’d rather believe in a lie than admit you were wrong!”

“You’re the one who’s wrong! You could have been happy if you just gave all to God, but you’re stubborn and proud just like Papa said! The only thing I was ever wrong about was thinking that you could be saved. I see now that you’re nothing but a fool! A damned fool beyond God’s love!”

“Good! Because I’d rather be that kind of fool than what you are! I don’t care what I have to go through or what I endure! No matter what happens, I will never be a blind idiot like you!”

“You know nothing of what I am!” 

Otis barely dodged the swing of the axe that followed. It crashed into one of the walls, taking strips of wood as Marta yanked it free.

“Marta, stop it!” Paige tried to hold her back, but Marta shoved her out of the way, sending her crashing into a wall.

Otis started toward her, but Marta stood between them.

“Don’t worry about me! Just get out of here!” Paige shouted.

He scrambled to the backdoor and ran to the yard, but Marta caught up with a few strides. She attempted another strike.

“Take it back!” She shrieked.

“Never!”

The next swing came stronger, focused, and too fast for Otis to dodge.

With the blade in his side, he and Marta froze. Their eyes met for only a moment before Marta ripped the weapon from him. She watched him crumble to his knees and grip at the fresh wound. His breath shook as he held out one of his hands to see the blood. It soaked through his shirt and coat, and his gaze dimmed.

All the while, Marta loomed over him and glared. “Take it back.” 

He seemed to stare both at and through her as he answered, “I can’t.”

She raised the blade above her head, but lingered as he shuddered and choked on every breath. She didn’t look at Otis when she uttered, “God loves you.”

The axe came down a final time and Otis fell with it.

He breathed for only a few moments more before he went still. Blood pooled beneath him, soaking the soil. As Marta removed the blade, a blood curdling scream pierced the night. She looked to see Seth at the door beside Paige. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he threw his head back and continued to scream. No matter what Paige said, he would not look away.

Marta turned her back to them. She brought the blade down through the back to hook the body, dragging it behind her. The blood spread through the yard, leaving a trail with each step.

“No! You leave him there!” Paige shouted over Seth’s sobbing. “Don’t you dare take him! Marta, are you listening to me!? Marta!”

But Marta did not answer. She did not even look at them. Instead, she continued ahead. As she walked, once quiet houses stirred at Seth’s wailing. Lights turned on along Marta’s trail and she could hear the gasps and murmurs while people watched from the safety of their windows. Few dared to step outside and fewer followed. Those that did kept a safe distance behind.

More gathered as she went through town square and past the chapel. They whispered to each other, but never to her. They followed to the foot of the hill, but it was only Marta who made the ascent.

Come morning, the townspeople would make the climb to Knoth’s home. They would plead for answers. Whether they wept or screamed, all would accept their prophet’s comfort and assurance. 

However, it was only Marta who stood at Knoth’s doorstep that night. She knocked lightly, as if she were a stranger.

In almost an instant, the door swung open. Knoth stared at her as if unable to believe his sight. “Marta, you’re back…” When he would have once embraced her, he only held out his hands, seeming to stop them from coming any nearer.

She stepped aside so he may look upon the body.

Knoth’s eye glowed in jubilance. “Oh, Marta.” He fell to his knees and took her hand into both of his. “What a fool I was not to have trusted in you. For your faith really is most perfect. Not only in my eye, but also His. You cannot hear it, but the angels sing your praises! The Lord rejoices in your spilling of this wicked blood, and from this day forth you are as one of His angels, my avenging angel!” He tightened his grip. “Can you ever forgive me, my dearest? Please say you will. Never again shall I doubt your strength and resolve.”

Marta cried.


End file.
